


500K Prompts

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV), The Hobbit - All Media Types, Young Hercules
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Mixed Bag, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sickfic, Werewolf Sex, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the prompts given to me by the wonderful people of tumblr. These will not be in any particular order. I go where the muse takes me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tied

Jim/Ross Modern AU

Bottom!Ross with edging then aftercare. - Ross gets tied down and just has to take it until he’s crying.

This takes place in the Modern AU, two years after Jim and Ross meet. It is after Ross has come back from Afghanistan and they are now living together.

Trigger warning for bondage and edging.

For the gorgeous and wonderful [TaupeFox59](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59) who is my dancing partner in the wonderful mosh that is DarkHawk. I love you.

She is a wonderful writer. Seriously go read her stuff. Like now.

 

Ross watched Jim across the table, chewing on his lower lip. It was an old pine table, square and sturdy and scarred. A little like him, he thought with a sardonic quirk at the corner of his mouth. Jim was on shore leave for three weeks, a long time by naval standards but the Dragon was in for routine maintenance and that meant plenty of time off. Jim, of course, found it hard to switch off for that length of time and made frequent excursions to Portsmouth, catching up on paperwork and doing systems checks. It had annoyed Ross a little. His time with Jim was precious to him, but sometimes his boyfriend forgot that. Not on purpose, of course, but simply because his job was so tied up with who he was. It made Ross feel belligerent. It also made him insecure as he battled with the feeling that Jim would rather be out of his company than in it. And Jim had had an early morning call from Sellar about something to do with the advanced weapons system that Jim was an expert on, and now Jim was dressed neatly in his working rig, long sleeved white shirt with his lieutenants flashes on the shoulders, black tie perfectly knotted and looking the epitome of shipshape and Bristol fashion. He had his officer’s cap on the table in front of him along with his bike keys and mobile.

So Ross sat and glared at Jim, knowing he was being childish. But he also knew that two years together had made Jim more than aware of his moods, his sulks and his mercurial changes. And that Jim’s quiet calm smoothed him out when nothing else could. And for the other times, when the horrible stretched feeling came back and he started to feel panicky and unsure of their relationship, there was their own personal solution.

‘Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I have to guess this morning?’ Jim said, not lifting his head from the book he was reading. That was a quirk that Ross had had to get used to. Jim read almost constantly - on the train, in the car, in the bath (and more than one paperback had to be left on the windowsill in the living room, which got the full sun, when Jim accidentally dropped it in the water). And normally he didn’t mind, liked to have the time to stare uninterrupted at his beloved. Two years had diminished none of Ross’ desire for him.

‘You’re busy reading.’ Ross replied, and Jim put down the book. He gave Ross a knowing look, and Ross knew that Jim had seen straight through him. He always did.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’ he asked, and Ross felt a thrill at the nickname. Jim only really used it when they were fucking or on the way to fucking. He knew then that Jim had obviously picked up on his current mood. He locked eyes with him, watching as Jim’s breathing shifted ever so slightly, the subtle change in his body language. He got up from the table, and walked to Ross. His fingers trailed lightly along the scarred wood, and Ross’ pulse stuttered and sped up. He remembered that first time so many months ago when Jim had threatened to fuck him on the table. They’d done that and a whole lot more since moving in together.

He got to Ross and took his chin in his hand, tilting Ross’ face up to look at him searchingly. They stared at each other, the intimacy of the direct gaze asking the question and answering it. But Jim was a stickler for procedure, on and off the ship.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, and his voice had dropped into that lower register that drove Ross insane with want. He knew that he would effectively be sealing his fate.

‘I want you to be home.’ he said, and the tremor was there in his voice.

‘You know I have to go in.’ Jim’s voice was reasonable. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ His thumb smoothed along Ross’ lower lip, and there was an almost electric crackle in the air between them. ‘I don’t know when exactly, but I’ll try to make it as quick as possible. And when I get back, we can play. Would you like that?’ That made Ross shiver. He knew what that meant. And, as always, Jim had known that was what he wanted, what he needed.

‘Yes.’ he said. Jim’s eyes were like blue-green lasers in their intensity as they watched him.

‘And what would you like me to do to you?’ he asked, voice as casual as if he’d just asked Ross if he wanted another cup of coffee. Inwardly he wanted to shout. Jim usually took the lead in their scenes, completely dominating the how and when. If he was offering a chance to Ross to express a preference for what they would be doing later, it meant a great deal and Ross’ felt like he couldn’t love him any more if he tried.

‘Fuck me.’ he whispered, and saw the heat flare in Jim’s eyes at the words. ‘Fuck me till I cry.’

**********

The day dragged, just like Jim knew it would. He was stuck in meetings with the systems engineers for most of the morning, arguing about updates and performance controls. He had pushed everything aside on the drive in to Portsmouth, music blaring to drown out the excitement that was building inside him.

It didn’t help that every now and then his phone would buzz. The messages had been completely innocent at first. Ross was out jogging, in spite of his earlier mood. He sent pictures of the view down the valley from where the road led to their cottage. The sky was clear and the autumn day was looking to be quite lovely. It was completely opposite in Portsmouth which seemed to be stuck in a fog bank.

Those had changed to pictures of the woodland that lay below the fields that the cottage backed onto. Then the pictures had changed. The first one had simply been of Ross leaning against a tree, the sun shining in his face and changing his eyes from hazel to golden brown. Jim smiled as he looked at it. He knew that Ross had been insecure about his looks ever since he’d been injured in Helmand, but he thought the lurid scar made him look even better, even if Ross didn’t believe it just yet. It had taken a long time to get his confidence back, not only in their bed but out of it as well.

His phone buzzed again and Jim excused himself from the conversation to check the message. It was another shot of Ross against the tree, but the angle was different. The glare from the sun hid his face but Jim could see very clearly that he had a hand down the front of his pants.

That was interesting.

It was also very distracting and Jim had to focus extremely hard to get through the next thirty minutes of talk about relays and strike times. Thankfully, once they were done, Sellar suggested they get some lunch in the Officer’s mess and Jim was able to escape to the head. He was very glad he did when he looked at his phone and saw that Ross had sent him a five minute video. He locked himself in the cubicle, muted the sound and watched.

It did not help his excitement levels. Or his concentration.

**********

Ross came up the road, feeling pleasantly worn out and loose limbed. The run had been good, but nothing compared to his little performance for Jim. He knew he’d get stick for that later, after all he was breaking the rules of no sending sexually explicit material while Jim was at work, but he knew that his boyfriend would never be able to resist watching it. And if that meant that Ross would be a little annoying presence in the back of his mind all day, then so much the better.  
He went in the kitchen door, chucking his keys and mobile on the counter and going to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, necking half of it before his phone rang. He felt a shiver go down his spine. It been just under an hour since he’d sent the video message and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting off just a little bit on the thought of what Jim’s reaction would be. He went to the counter, picking up his phone and checking the caller, even though he knew very well who it would be. He took a deep breath before answering then connected the call.

‘Hello.’ he said, trying to sound effortlessly casual and failing miserably. There was silence on the other side. Ross bit his lip. He knew this was all part of it and the wonderful surge of anticipation in his stomach told him that Jim’s silence was having the desired effect. It also indicated that the scene had just started, and that the rules would be in place until Jim said it was over. There were a few more minutes when nothing was said between them, although Ross could hear Jim’s breathing on the other side. It sounded a bit laboured, and Ross had the delicious thought that Jim had probably jerked off as well while he was watching the video. Eventually there was an intake of breath.

‘I’ll be home at four. Be ready.’ Then the call disconnected. Ross felt himself starting to get hard. It didn’t take much, knowing what was about to come.

***********

He spent the rest of the day in a mindless state of impatience, arousal and that wonderful numbness that always preceded a scene. The first time he’d gone under had been a surprise for both of them, and neither of them had really understood what was happening. A year later and they were both experts at reading the signs and understanding the stages that Ross would go through.

A huge part of achieving the correct mental state was preparation. Ross checked the clock. It was just after three. He’d resisted the urge to call, as it was against the rules. There would be no communication until Jim got home, and then it would be a strict case of speaking only when explicitly directed to. They’d discovered together that restricting Ross’ ability to communicate needed no physical manifestation. The instruction from Jim was enough to keep him silent.

Ross went into the room at the back of the house for what seemed like the hundredth time and surveyed the scene. It was kept empty, a spare room being a requirement for when they’d been looking for a place to rent. The white walls were unadorned and the wooden floor boards had a rich dark patina. There was an open brick fireplace in the far wall, already set with wood and kindling. Ross would light it shortly and allow it to burn enough to make the room pleasantly warm, but not so hot it would dehydrate him.

The room itself was empty except for a simple wooden sea chest that was painted and flaking, a dull faded grey green like a stormy ocean. Jim had brought it home from God knew where not long after they’d taken the decision to venture into this particular arena. He was not allowed to touch the box under any circumstances. That was part of the scene, and Jim kept all their gear in there. It was strictly separate from anything else they used in bed.

His phone buzzed and he took it out. There was a message from Jim. He opened it.

_ETA 30 mins._

That was all it said. That was all it needed to say.

He went to the fire, bending down and lighting using the matches in his pocket. He didn’t need to check that it was burning properly. It had been part of the scene for many months now, and he was an expert at setting it correctly. He got to his feet, lit another match and lit the line of candles that ran along the mantelpiece. This was the only illumination allowed in the room. Then he went upstairs.

Their cottage was old and he had to duck when he got to the top of the stairs, but it was pretty much automatic by now. He went into their bedroom, shucking his clothes as he went and then went through to the bathroom which was through a door on the other side of their bed. The bathroom was period, not really changed since the thirties and the plumbing was creative to say the least. Their first week in the cottage had seen them both being shocked awake by noises that sounding like a sinking ship. It was the only time Ross had ever seen Jim go into emergency mode, getting out of bed and into his clothes before Ross had even had a chance to process what was going on. It had been an interesting little insight into his other half.

He got into the bathtub, turning on the shower and letting the heat build up until the water was lukewarm. He’d been on deployment enough times for cold water not to bother him, and he didn’t want to overheat himself too soon.

There would be enough of that later.

Ross washed himself off, not using soap. That was part of the ritual as well. Jim liked him to smell like himself, saying that when he was deep under that he smelt the strongest and most amazing he ever had. He stood and let the water rush over him, and his mind started to drift, but not fixing on any thought, just the sensations of the water and the smooth porcelain under his feet. He got hyper-aware when he was deep in a scene, to the point where he swore he could feel every last line of wood grain under his toes or smell the changes in Jim’s body chemistry as he moved through different stages of arousal.

He heard the alarm going off in the bedroom and pulled himself together enough to get out the shower. He felt languid and fuzzy around the edges, like he had been drinking. He dried off just enough and then went into the bedroom. He pulled on a clean pair of briefs and then dug through his bottom drawer in the chest of drawers for his jeans. Association was also important and these jeans were the ones he always used. They had been stained and washed so many times they were as soft as velvet, and more importantly, easy to get out of. He didn’t put on a shirt.

Once he was done he went back downstairs turning off lights as he went. It was almost completely dark now, and he knew that was how Jim would want it. When he got to the room it was well heated, and the candles twinkled at him. He moved to the middle of the room, got down on his knees and sat back on his heels. Then he placed his hands on his knees, closed his eyes and waited. His breaths steadied and evened out, getting deeper and longer. He focused only on that, knowing that he needed to be ready for Jim when he arrived. If he wasn’t he would have to wait longer. But then again, if he seemed too eager then Jim would make him wait anyway.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of Jim’s bike. He breathed in too sharply, the adrenaline starting to surge as he heard it cut out, and after a long moment the sound of Jim’s key in the door. Then the door opening and closing followed by the clipped sound of Jim’s boots on the floorboards. He moved past the doorway, the sound stopping for a moment. Ross knew he was looking in, taking in Ross shirtless and on his knees waiting for him. Then the footsteps moved away from the doorway and Ross heard him go up the stairs.

He waited.

************

Jim walked up stairs, fighting to calm himself and steady his breathing. It was imperative that when he went back in the room, that he was fully in control of himself. It was the only way they could do it.

But when he’d looked in the room, the view he’d been greeted with had taken his breath away. Ross was facing away from him, as he usually did. The room was an odd shape which meant that the fireplace was on Ross’ right hand side, the fire and the candlelight casting deep shadows and bringing out the dark red highlights in his hair. His head had been bowed, and Jim knew without having to look that his eyes were closed. The lights had washed over the pale skin of his naked back and shoulders, painting them in rich shades of gold and orange. He was beautiful.

Jim got to the room, noting the state of it, Ross’s discarded clothing on the bed and floor. He did the same, slowly stripping off his uniform before going into the bathroom to shower just as Ross had already done. It was all part of the ritual and would give him the time he needed to mentally prepare himself.

What they did could not be categorised. It wasn’t based on violence or the infliction of pain. It was simply something they did to quiet the demons in Ross’ head, and bring him back down to earth again. Even still, it had become something so very important to both of them and Jim was just as serious about following the steps as Ross was.

He didn’t wash so much as just wet himself down, towelling himself off roughly when he got out. He shook the water from his hair, but didn’t dry it further. Then he went into the room, taking clean boxers and an old and very faded pair of jeans from the back of the wardrobe. They had rips at the knees and were almost white from washing, but, like the pair he knew Ross was wearing, they were butter soft and he could get out of them at a moment’s notice. It also didn’t matter what he got on them.

Dressed as much as he was going to be, he turned off the light again and went downstairs. When he got to the doorway he took another moment to look at Ross, his cock hardening as he took in the acres of skin, the perfectly held pose. He could hear the little shift in Ross’ breathing and knew that Ross was getting as excited as he was.

He walked into the room, bare feet padding on the floorboards. He went to stand in front of Ross, looking down on his bowed head. There was no reaction, just as he expected. He watched, enjoying the gentle rise and fall of Ross’ broad shoulders as he breathed.

Then he left the room. There were things to be done.

***********

Ross as he listened to Jim padding around the room, the sound of his bare feet intoxicating. With his now heightened senses there was so much to take in – the sound of Jim’s movements, the smell of him, the almost electric disturbance of the air as Jim moved past him.

He knew that Jim had been standing in front of him, then had walked away. He didn’t move a muscle. There were noises from the kitchen, the sound of the fridge door being opened and closed and the very distinctive clink of ice and water. That set his nerves on fire as he realised what Jim had planned. It was one of his favourite things.

He sat, feeling the hard floor underneath his knees and toes, the burn starting to set in in his thighs and calves. It would be a while yet before anything happened, the waiting part of the ritual as Jim prepared the other things he needed.

The footsteps were back, light and even. Then Ross shook like a nervous horse as the lightest drift of fingertips moved across his shoulders when Jim walked past him. It was feather light and so much more intense for that. He breathed in sharply and the footsteps stopped. He knew that Jim was watching him and he forced himself to regulate his inhalations and exhalations until they were smooth and steady again. Then the footsteps moved and he heard the sound of the sea chest being opened and then objects being taken out – heavy silken cord, lube and the small cushion that Jim would lay on the floor for later so his forehead didn’t knock against the floorboards. They had learned that one the hard way after Ross had ended up with a bump on his forehead the size of a cricket ball after one particularly hard thrust. He’d had difficulty explaining that one away. The last thing he heard was the sound of Jim plugging in the docking station and then the music started. It had taken some time for them to come up with a playlist, but it was heavy on the Depeche Mode.

He felt the air move again and then the fingertips ghosted over the hair at the back of his neck. It was getting hard for him to determine Jim’s exact whereabouts and he knew he was starting to slip into that glorious state just before the move into something deeper. The sounds of Jim’s feet seemed unnaturally loud to him, and all the other sounds of the house or the trees outside faded into nothingness.

He’d long lost track of time, but knew it had to be at least half an hour since Jim had arrived home. His knees hurt but the pain was dull, taking the edge off the extreme arousal that he was starting to experience, kicked off by those butterfly touches. His skin seemed oversensitive and as Jim moved past him one last time, his fingers tracing across Ross’ chest this time, Ross moaned incoherently. The fingers stopped, lingering on his skin and they felt like spots of fire where they connected to him. Ross desperately wanted to open his eyes and see Jim, but he hadn’t been given the order yet and to do so would break the rules. So he focused on the fingers of his chest, luxuriating in how hard that simple contact was making him. His cock felt constrained by his jeans, just the right side of pain. But he also knew that it would be a long time before he found any relief.

‘Ross.’ Jim’s voice was wonderfully neutral, a flat edge to it that drove Ross crazy. ‘Look at me.’

He did, blinking in the light. Even though it was dim he’d had his eyes closed for some time and it was difficult to focus. Jim eventually came into view and Ross stifled a moan at how good he looked. The firelight made him a creature of gold and crimson, hair burnished and skin glowing. He looked down at Ross, the length of black silk cord heavy in one hand. His dark gold body hair caught the fire, little glints of light. He looked almost ethereal. Ross’ heart swelled with love and lust. Jim was all his, and his alone.

‘Safeword. What is it?’ Jim said and Ross focused enough to answer.

‘Aster.’ he said. It was a word that would catch Jim’s attention immediately and was easy for Ross to remember in his state of diminished capacity. He was rewarded with a half-smile, the only one he’d receive for the rest of the evening.

‘Good boy.’ Jim said. ‘Stand up for me.’

Ross leaned forward enough to get his feet under him, joints protesting at having been in one position for so long. He stood up and Jim did a slow circuit.

‘Hands behind your back.’ he said, and Ross obeyed. He bent his elbows at right angles so they were parallel to each other, palms flat against his forearms. He heard the snap of the cord as Jim doubled it over, and felt his breathing starting to speed up. Then the gentle but brisk touch of Jim’s hands as he pushed the first length of cord behind Ross’ arms and down over his wrists. The silk cord slid against his skin and then there was a second loop, binding his wrists. Jim tested the tension, two fingers tugging at it to make sure there was enough give to keep circulation good but not come loose. He made the first loop through and then there was a tugging as he worked the knot to the top of Ross arm, then twisted it and created a second loop before threading the cord through again. Then he gripped it loosely before sliding his hand down in a quick sure movement, locking the knot in. The force jerked Ross out of balance for a second and Jim’s hand came out to steady him, warm and strong at the small of his back.

‘On your knees.’ he said and Ross got down slowly, not having his hands to balance himself. Jim guided him down and when Ross was down in front of him, he placed his hand briefly at the nape of Ross’ neck, squeezing gently. The touch was reassuring, and Ross felt a deep serenity starting to descend upon him. He breathed deeply and the hand stayed in position.

‘Good.’ Jim said. ‘Next step.’ He moved to Ross side, standing perpendicular to him, sure hands bringing the cord up against Ross’ left upper arm, finding the natural dent that indicated the dip of the deltoid and sliding the cord into it before reaching around Ross’ body and bringing it across his chest and then around his right shoulder. The whole time Ross watched him as much as he could without turning his head, which he wasn’t allowed to do. Jim’s face was a picture of concentration, eyes tracing the cord with a critical look. The second wrap around Ross’ chest went just under the first one. Jim fed it behind the line that went from Ross’ wrists to his shoulder, pulling it through and tightening just enough to hold Ross still. He put a hand under Ross’ wrists, supporting them as he pulled the cord up and over the strands that went around Ross’ chest. He doubled the loop over and tugged it tight so there was the slightest burn in Ross’ arms. There was a moment of complex binding and compacting, Jim’s fingers brushing the skin of his back as he wound the cord over and through several times until he left a loop of cord hanging. The he took hold of Ross upper arm firmly and ran a finger under the cord, tugging firmly to settle the cord. Ross was pliant, allowing Jim to manhandle him. Satisfied by the fit of the cord, Jim now moved to stand in front of him at a slight angle so he could reach both in front of and behind Ross. Then he took the loose hanging loop and reach through the space between Ross’ left elbow and his body, threading the loop through so that he could pull it to the front.

Ross couldn’t take his eyes off him. He watched, entranced as Jim pulled the cord up behind the wraps around his chest, then over and back down through. He took care to make sure the ropes lay smoothly, not catching hair or the delicate skin. He drew it around Ross’ back, threading it under the knot stem at the back before repeating the process on his right side. Once he was done he repeated the earlier step, threading it through under the stem before making another wrap three fingers below the first set that ran around Ross’ upper chest. Jim brought it around just under his pectorals, taking care not to catch his chest hair in the cords. It went under the stem one more time and a second wrap was made before Jim moved to stand behind him, threading and looping the cord through and over the stem before completing it by repeating the move from just before, passing it between Ross’ arm and body again and the over the front wraps and through to his back. When both sides were done Jim finished it off by cinching it in firmly around the knot stem. The he stepped back and walked around Ross, tugging and smoothing here and there. When he was done he took a step back, eyes narrowing as he surveyed Ross.

‘Yes.’ he said, then locked eyes with Ross. ‘Down.’ Ross immediately sat on his heels, the dominant tone of Jim’s voice snapping all his attention to him, the whole room fading away as he focused solely on the man in front of him. Jim kept his gaze steady as he stepped forward until he was a foot from Ross, with Ross looking up at him.

The blow came out of nowhere.

The back of Jim’s right hand caught Ross on the right cheekbone, snapping his head to the left hard enough for his eyes to water and his head to swim. He gasped as the pain made it feel like the right side of his face was on fire. He was tempted to look up, knowing that any sign of defiance would result in another one. He was in a mood to push his boundaries.

‘That was for disobeying the rules.’ Jim’s voice was stern. Then he reached down, taking Ross chin in his hand and jerking him back to face him. ‘Do I have to remind you about what happens when you break them.’ Ross stared back, his eyes challenging, and didn’t answer. Jim’s grip tightened and heat flared through him like wildfire. ‘Answer me.’

‘No.’ he said. ‘I understand.’

‘Good.’ Jim released him. ‘But there are repercussions for your behaviour.’ He ran his eyes over Ross, who licked his suddenly dry lips and tried not to pant at the open desire he now saw in Jim’s eyes. ‘Because you’ve been disobedient, you’re going to have to prove to me that you can behave. So, that means that tonight you will only come when I give you permission to. Do you understand me?’ Ross kept his mouth shut and glared back at Jim.

Jim reached for him, fingers tangling in the longer hair at the crown of Ross’ head, gripping and tugging back hard enough to sting.

‘I said, do you understand me?’ he asked, punctuating his words with a rough shake of Ross’ head.

‘Yes.’ Ross gasped, the sting in his scalp firing off all sorts of feelings. Jim held him still and he finally couldn’t hold it in, panting as the arousal swept through him, stating to carry him up and away. Jim’s focus on him was pushing him past the barrier, the pain changing into something sweeter and purer.

Jim released his grip and the relief was a flood of wonderful numbness through his abused scalp. Ross watched as Jim stepped back and then moved out of his line of sight. He heard his footsteps retreating and then there was silence. It had a strange quality, muffled and dense. His previously heightened senses were now heading in the opposite direction, and he was feeling heavy-limbed and almost drunk.

Jim’s footsteps returned but now Ross couldn’t tell where they were coming from. Everything was quickly becoming indistinct and dreamlike, and he wavered. Then Jim’s hand was on his shoulder, a solid comforting weight. It anchored him back down, and the feeling of trust and safety was so strong it took his breath away. He gravitated towards it, and Jim stepped in towards him, letting Ross lean against his hip as he dropped.

‘That’s it baby.’ he murmured, his voice thick and rich as honey. ‘I’m here, I’ve got you. Remember I’ll never let you fall.’ Ross heard himself whimper, but was so far away from it now that sounded like someone else. His fingers stroked through Ross’ hair and it was so intoxicating that Ross moaned loudly. His cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, so hard that he could feel every inch of it straining against the fabric of his briefs. Then the gentle fingers were gone and Jim stepped away from him. Ross whined pleadingly at the loss of contact.

‘Not yet.’ Jim said. ‘You have work to do.’ He went to the sea chest and Ross could just make out the glint of glass of the bowl now sitting on top. Jim dipped his fingers in the bowl and then he was back. The first touch of the ice he held sent Ross’ head reeling, the slick surface of the partially melted cube tracing the line of his collarbone then up to the pulse point at the crook of his neck before Jim moved it to the hollow of his throat. Ross was openly panting now, harsh animal sounds because he had lost all capacity for speech. Jim lifted the ice, and let it run along Ross’ lower lip before lifting it to his own mouth and licking it, eyes locked on Ross the whole time. Ross moaned wantonly and Jim put the ice in his mouth, then got down on his knees so he was more or less level with Ross. He moved closer and then his mouth was on Ross neck, the combination of ice and warm tongue swiping at his skin so intense that Ross shouted. He strained against the cord, but the knots held fast.

Jim was merciless, running his mouth along the trail the cube had taken originally before dropping his head and sucking Ross’ nipple into his mouth, the ice cube skating over it. He worked it over and over, the ice making the sensitised skin tingle and little sparks of light go off behind Ross’ now closed eyes. His breathing was now at rapid fire speed, short and hard and loud. Nothing else existed for him, his whole existence pared down to Jim’s mouth and Jim’s tongue and the rapidly melting ice cube. Then it was gone.

Ross struggled for breath, almost blind with pleasure and sensation. Then Jim’s mouth was back, a new ice cube in place, and he sucked at the other nipple and Ross howled like a dog in heat. He desperately wanted to scream, to swear, to tell Jim to fuck him hard and fast until he was choking on his cock. But that would be breaking the rules and he couldn’t.

The torture continued, ice cube after ice cube running over his nipples, his chest, his neck. Finally, when he was drenched in sweat and his chest was heaving, Jim slipped the final cube into his mouth and kissed him, tongue sliding against Ross’ in a frenetic dance. He pulled on Ross’ hair, but the pain was gone now, replaced by nothing but deep throbbing pleasure. Ross moaned into Jim’s open mouth, twisting, desperate for friction, and Jim gave it to him, their slick bodies sliding against each other. Then he pulled Ross’ head back, separating them.

‘You’re so good, baby.’ he rasped, his voice rough and almost unrecognisable. ‘Such a good boy. Think you can come for me?’

‘Yes. Please. Please.’ Ross begged, desperate for Jim’s mouth, trying to follow it. Jim gave him a little shake.

‘Come on then.’ he breathed, making Ross break out in goose bumps. ‘I want to see you come without me touching you. I want you to come just from this, from imagining how fucking good it’s going to be when I stick my cock in you.’ He tugged on Ross’ hair again and Ross lost all control of himself, his orgasm rushing down on him like a runaway train. He came so hard his entire body jerked, and he felt the sticky warm rush of cum in his briefs. But when he was done he was still hard. He keened at the pleasure/pain and Jim smiled, sharp and feral.

‘Poor baby.’ he purred, and his hand was on Ross’ cock, squeezing lightly. ‘Still so hard for me. I bet I could make you come all night and you would still not have enough.’ He let go and got up off his knees. He moved forward. Through his blurred vision, Ross could see the bulge in his jeans, the lines of sweat running down his chest and stomach, matting the hair and darkening it. He got level with Ross face and then undid the top button of his jeans.

‘Take it down.’ he ordered and Ross rose just enough to grasp the zip in his teeth, sinking down and pulling the zipper with him.

‘Fuck yeah…’ Jim breathed. ‘I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.’ He ran his fingers through Ross’ hair, pushing his head back, running his thumb over Ross’ mouth. Ross took it in, shamelessly licking and sucking as Jim watched him, his free hand pushing his jeans and boxers down, hard cock jumping free. He steadied it and stepped close enough for the head to rest against Ross’ mouth. ‘Only when I say.’ he said, using the gathered pre-cum to slick Ross’ mouth. ‘Open your mouth.’ Ross did, watching Jim’s face as he pushed in just far enough for Ross to be able to lap at it like a cat. ‘Slowly.’ he said and Ross did as he was told, long flat licks to the head, tracing every line. Jim’s chest heaved with his laboured breaths and he never let Ross look away.

‘Take it.’ he breathed. ‘Show me how much you love sucking my cock.’ He thrust forward and Ross let him penetrate his mouth until he was almost gagging. He sucked hard and Jim gasped, pulling back and then thrusting in again. Ross was dropping fast, wanting nothing more than to choke himself on Jim’s cock, but then Jim took hold of his head. He kept him steady, controlling the slide in so that Ross could still breathe. ‘Gently.’ he breathed, ‘That’s so good, baby.’ He thrust a few more times and then pulled out. Ross moaned in disappointment. He was so hard again that he knew if Jim touched him just a little more, he’d come again, and he desperately wanted to come with Jim’s cock in his mouth. But Jim was now moving away again. He took a moment to strip and Ross heart jumped as he took in Jim’s naked body, all graceful lines and hard muscle.

‘Get up.’ Jim ordered, and Ross almost fell over himself in his rush to obey. When he was on his feet, Jim was the one to get on his knees, undoing Ross’ jeans and briefs and pulling them down until they were at his feet. He stepped out of them and Jim chucked them aside. Then he got up, but he was careful not to touch Ross any more than he had to. He guided him back down to his knees.

Ross could not function anymore, beyond simply doing what Jim wanted him to. He waited as Jim brought the small cushion and laid it down in front of him.

‘Head down.’ he said and Ross bent over until his forehead was comfortably settled. His backside was in the air, knees spread so he was open and exposed and there was one glorious moment where Jim ran his hand down his back, soothing and calming him. Then he went to the sea chest and picked up something from the bowl. Ross was so far gone he couldn’t even tell what it was. Then Jim picked up something else and walked back to behind him. There was a grunt as Jim got to his knees followed by a snap. Then there was a cool liquid trail that hit him at the top and ran down, icy cool and delicious. Jim kept pouring and the Ross felt his fingers flowing the trail, slicking him liberally with the icy cold lube. It made him gasp. One finger slid in, moving easily. Its passage was slow and infinitely gentle, probing and tracing his walls until he couldn’t take it and started to shake as his second orgasm built. But just as he was about to crest, it was taken away.

‘No.’ the stern tone was back. ‘I told you to wait until I give you permission.’ Ross choked back a noise that sounded like a sob and held it in until the feeling subsided enough for him to breathe easy again. But just as he did, the finger slipped inside again and this time it moved harder and faster, bringing him back up so quickly that he couldn’t hold it. He started to come but then Jim’s hand was around him, punishingly tight and the edge slipped away from him again, even as the intensity stayed. The pattern repeated itself, but this time there were three fingers, making him stretch and burn. They moved punishingly fast and Ross howled, tears sliding down his face at the pleasure-pain. He screamed and twisted and whined, pushing back into the fingers but again and again they kept him from coming. Then just as he thought it couldn’t get any more intense, the fingers were gone and then replaced by the icy cold slick of metal slipping in easily, lube everywhere and then Jim’s slick hand was on him, working him in firm strokes in time with the object inside him. His voice cracked and broke as it danced over his prostate, and he crested once more. Jim’s hand was brutal as it choked off the orgasm and Ross started crying in earnest, great wracking sobs as he was overloaded. The cold of the object inside him was starting to ebb and now all he could feel was its smooth surface, the pressure against his prostate enough to stimulate him, but gentle enough to not push him over.

Behind him, he could hear Jim crying out with him, panting hard, so close to losing it too.

‘Oh God, Ross.’ he ground out. ‘You are so amazing, so beautiful like this. I want to fuck you so hard.’ Ross felt Jim’s mouth at the base of his spine, tongue licking even as he worked the object inside him.

Everything was this, heat and light and sound all tied up in the man with him, the only one in the world who could break him apart like this and then put him back together afterwards. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him, how safe he felt even as Jim stripped him of everything he was.

Then the cold was gone, replaced by warm, throbbing heat and Jim was inside him, cock sliding into him easily in one smooth thrust. Ross felt the last surge as Jim fucked him, all composure gone now, driving in without consideration or mercy and Ross cried and cried, tears blurring his vision and every thrust sending him straight to heaven.

‘Come for me, baby.’ Jim choked out. ‘I want you to come with me. Together.’ Ross threw his head back, and their voices combined until they reached fever pitch.

And the he was flying, up, up, up until he felt like he was soaring above the earth and when he came it was like a nuclear detonation. He could hardly take in the feeling it was so all consuming. He knew he was screaming his heart out but he could hear nothing, only feel.

And then there was nothing but blissful ecstatic oblivion.

***********

He woke up in bed and realised vaguely that Jim must have carried him there. He was wrapped up in their duvet, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He felt a warm weight next to him and fingers softly stroking his hair and face.  
‘Jim.’ he mumbled and felt the gentle press of lips to his temple.

‘I’m here, baby.’ Jim murmured. ‘I’m here.’

‘Love you.’ Ross mumbled. ‘Don’t go.’

Jim tilted Ross’ head, every movement tender and full of care. Ross couldn't focus, still dazed from the scene, but he felt Jim’s mouth against his, so warm and so real that all he could feel was safe and loved and wanted.

‘I love you.’ he replied. ‘I will always be here with you. Forever.’


	2. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim/Ross Modern AU - Ross takes Jim on a stag do for one of his squad mates. Unbeknownst to Jim, Ross has picked the short straw to be the joke stripper complete with stockings, suspenders and corset. Cue Jim picking his jaw up off the ground.

For call-me-Sil who, it appears, is my smut soul-mate. Hope you like this monstrosity that we came up with :D I certainly do...

The songs quoted from are as follows:

Shake the Disease - Depeche Mode  
When Doves Cry - Quindon Tarver  
Closer - Nine Inch Nails

So this turned out a bit epic...

 

Ross stared at the match in his hand. It stubbornly remained burnt. He crumbled the charred head and watched as a fine litter of carbon dust fell to the surface if the pub table. Around him, four faces watched in fascination and the sound of conspiratorial sniggering was loud in his ears.

You bastards.’ he said. ‘You motherfucking, cocksucking bastards.’

‘Fair’s fair Ross.’ Carter said. His smile was so wide it made him look a little demonic. ‘Burnt match gets the job.’

‘I can’t.’ Ross said. He knew he had no leg to stand on though. It was a time honoured and proud tradition of the 2nd Division Tank Corps.

‘You have to.’ said Digby. He and Richards exchanged looks. ‘Look if it’s because it’s Rupe, and you feel a bit weird then that’s…’ he paused for emphasis, ‘..just tough shit.’ There was a general round of raucous laughter. Ross heaved a sigh and considered his fate.

It wasn’t that he objected in principal to dressing up like a woman and giving Holmewood a lap dance. And Christ knew he’d been very lucky to avoid it up till now. Out of the ten captains of the 2nd Division six were married. Holmewood was now number seven. That left him, Jordan and Carter as the last remaining single men.

That last time it had happened, Carter had drawn the burnt match and Digby had got a right eyeful. Carter had decided to go all out and it had been a truly amazing sight. Ross knew he’d have some way to go to beating his performance.

‘Fine.’ he said. ‘But no fucking photographic evidence will be taken. And NO-ONE breathes a word of this to Jim.’

‘Worried he’ll want to come watch?’ Carter snickered.

‘No.’ Ross protested. ‘I’m worried that he’ll take one look at me in that get up and head for the fucking hills.’

‘He won’t.’ Digby grinned. ‘If he’s managed to put up with your moody arse for this long there’s no way some suspenders are going to change his mind.’

Ross glared at the gathered faces. He’d always wondered what would happen if he ever found someone he could down roots with. The accumulated wives and girlfriends were all accepted and basically considered as part of the clan, but his situation was a little different. He hadn’t been sure that they would look on Jim the same way, know that he was the other part of Ross. And he was Navy to boot.

He had been pleasantly surprised to find that his fears were unfounded. Jim had been merrily subsumed into the group of partners as easily as anyone else. In fact, the squad liked him so much Ross was often the secondary recipient of plans or arrangements.

‘Your round.’ Carter said, setting his almost empty pint glass down on the table. Ross got up, digging his wallet out of his back pocket and heading for the bar. The others watched him go.

‘I feel a little bad.’ Digby remarked and Carter snorted. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t have set him up to lose like that.’

‘Bollocks.’ Carter said. ‘Did you see how hard he fucking laughed at me? This is payback.’

‘Yeah, but mate you did make the ugliest fucking woman we’d ever seen.’ Jordan laughed.

‘That may be, but Ross has managed to escape every bloody draw. He’s due.’ Carter said.

‘Fuck, it’s going to be funny.’ Richards was almost giggling.

‘It fucking is.’ Carter said. They clinked their glasses and drained the contents.

***********

Ross got home a little after twelve. The taxi dropped him at the end of the lane that he lived down and he walked the rest of the way, letting the cool night air clear his head. He was pleasantly drunk, but not so much that he couldn’t function.

He got the front door, unlocking it and letting himself in. he could hear the sound of the TV from the living room. He hung up his coat, chucked his keys on the console table and went towards it. The room was in darkness, and the luminous glow of the TV showed him that Jim was lying on the sofa watching. He shifted and looked up as Ross came in, smiling at him.

‘Hey.’ he said. ‘You’re early.’ He got up, making room as Ross came in and sat next to him, leaning across and kissing Jim on the mouth. Then he snuggled up against him, Jim’s arm going around him, hand automatically moving to the back of Ross’ head and fingers dragging through his hair. ‘You and the boys have a good time?’

‘Yeah.’ Ross answered. ‘We were talking about the stag party.’ Jim chuckled.

‘I am very sorry I’m going to miss that.’ he said. ‘I would pay good money to see what you lot have come up with to embarrass him.’

‘Well, unfortunately it’s not every day the Brazilian navy comes to visit.’ Ross said.

‘No, it isn’t.’ Jim replied. He kissed Ross on the temple. ‘You eat?’

‘Not really.’ Ross said. Pork scratchings didn’t really count as food.

‘You want something?’ Jim asked and Ross hummed assent. ‘All right.’ He handed the remote to him and got up, and Ross fell down onto the sofa in the position Jim had just been occupying. He watched Jim go out the door and then started idly flicking through channels. He heard the sounds of Jim moving around the kitchen and smiled. He loved having him home. And Jim was home until after Christmas, having just finished a two month deployment to the Mediterranean. The credits for a film were just coming on as Jim came back in with a sandwich and a cup of tea which he handed to Ross, who was watching a giant pair of red lips on the screen with a bemused look on his face.

‘Brilliant.’ he said, flopping back down next to Ross and sticking his feet in Ross’ lap. ‘I love this film.’

‘What the fuck is it?’ Ross said around a mouthful of sandwich and Jim gave him a disbelieving look.

‘You don’t know what this is?’ he asked in that tone that Ross had become very familiar with in the last two years. Jim never ceased to be amazed at his lack of knowledge when it came to films. ‘How the fuck have you made it to twenty-eight without seeing the Rocky Horror Picture Show?’ He grabbed the remote from Ross and turned up the volume. Ross sighed. He knew better than to argue when Jim was in an educating mood, and he clearly was in one now. So he sat back, ate his sandwich and watched.

It wasn’t until they got to the grand entrance scene that he suddenly realised just how rapt Jim’s face was. He was totally immersed, not even responding to the foot rub he was getting. And Ross’ foot rubs usually had him purring like a big kitten by this point. Instead he watched, and Ross started to pay attention as the lift on the TV screen opened and a person came out.

‘Is that Tim Curry?’ he asked, secretly very proud of himself for recognising the actor.

‘Uh huh.’ Jim said, not looking away from the screen.

‘Oh.’ was all he could reply. ‘He looks very different.’

‘He looks fucking hot.’ Jim said absently. Ross frowned at him, as his words sank in.

‘You think he’s hot?’ he asked.

‘Not ordinarily.’ Jim replied. ‘There’s just something about him like this.’

‘But he’s dressed in a corset.’ Ross said.

‘I know.’ Jim’s voice was almost dreamy. ‘And look at those legs.’

The film ended and they went upstairs. It had had a very interesting effect on Jim apparently because he tackled Ross to the bed, practically ripped his clothes off and then rode him until they were both screaming.

It was only the next morning when Ross woke to the sound of the shower and Jim singing the words to Sweet Transvestite that he had his brainwave.

***********

It was fairly difficult to put his plan into action. He had a month. But then providence descended in the form of a call out for Jim to go to Copenhagen for three weeks to assist the Danish Navy with a problem with their PAAMS. Ross was inordinately proud of the fact that he had an extremely clever and somewhat acclaimed boyfriend. He dropped him off at Brize Norton, kissed him goodbye and waved him off.

The first thing was that he didn’t want anyone to catch wind of what he was doing. He kept his enquiries to places he’d have to commute to, rather than anything local.

The clothes were not as difficult to acquire as he’d expected. In fact once he got online he was astounded by the choice available to him. The final outfit was one he thought was just risqué enough without being too over the top. He considered stilettos and then remembered how Richards had fallen off of his, having borrowed them from his own wife. So instead he went for something a little more sensible. Then he considered accessories. Carter had been weighed down under a platinum blond wig and an enormous amount of rhinestone jewellery to complement his Marilyn Monroe look, but Ross knew that with what he had in mind neither of those would be practical. He was browsing a particularly interesting website when a pop-up advert caught his attention. He followed it.

The website it led him to had him opened mouthed in seconds as he took in the dazzling, and in some cases frightening, array of items. He knew that he and Jim veered very much towards the vanilla edge of bondage but he had never ever considered how much was actually available. Most of it didn’t appeal to him at all, and he knew that Jim would agree with him. But then he spotted something he very much liked the look of. He clicked through and realised he’d found exactly what he wanted. It was a moment of minutes to make his selection and purchase it.

With that part done he moved onto the next step.

***********

Emma was a delight. She was tiny and blond, and looked a little like a pixie.

But when she got going she was worse than any drill instructor Ross had ever had.

‘Again ladies.’ She trilled and the class groaned and went through the routine one more time. Ross was exhausted, dripping with sweat and feeling aches in places he hadn’t even realised he had muscles. All around him his classmates were in the same state. He wiped his palms down on his sweatpants and gripped the pole again, hoisting himself up.

He was a natural.

***********

‘So.’ Lucy said. ‘Have you found a club yet?’ Ross watched as she shovelled chips into her mouth and laughed.

‘I am amazed that you can even eat that much.’ he said and she shrugged.

‘I burn it off don’t I?’ she said and waved a chip at him. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Ross liked her very much. She was gorgeous, all thick glossy brown hair and green eyes and creamy skin. She was also a stripper in one of the most upmarket clubs in Bournemouth. She’d been helping Emma, who was her girlfriend, out with the classes and her face when she’d seen Ross, the only man in a class full of women, had been a picture. When he’d explained why he was there she’d laughed for a full twenty minutes and then kept him back after class to demonstrate her lap dancing technique. It had made him blush to the roots of his hair, but he’d been having private sessions with her for the last two weeks.

‘No.’ he said.

‘The offer is open.’ she said, ‘My boss said she’d be delighted to have you.’ The owner of her club was a woman, and a force to be reckoned with if Lucy’s accounts were anything to go by.

‘It’s getting them to agree.’ Ross sighed.

‘Just make it sound like it’s their idea.’ Lucy said grinning at him.

***********

It turned out to be surprisingly easy. And so there he was, in a hotel room on Bournemouth sea front going over the things he would need. The others would be arriving later, but Lucy had invited him to come to the club with her and she would get him ready for his grand entrance. He felt incredibly nervous, but he was very glad to have this chance to at least try out his routine before attempting it on Jim. Of course the way he planned to use it on him was a little more x-rated but at least it would be in the privacy of their own home.

The club Lucy worked at was thankfully very small and very exclusive and worked on a booking only system. She’d told Ross that there were another two parties booked for the evening, one a group of lesbian hens and the other a small consortium of Norwegian businessmen who worked for a well- known pleasure boat construction company that worked out of Poole. So his reputation would be quite safe.

He zipped up the bag and picked up his phone. It was almost three. Lucy would be there any minute. Once again he was very thankful that Jim was at the official welcome dinner for the officers of the visiting Brazilian frigate and would not be back until late, if he made it back at all. Ross had been to a couple of official functions with him and the overwhelming hotness of Jim in his dress uniform was sadly tempered by the enormous amount of alcohol that was consumed. So it may well be the case that he would stay in his cabin on the Dragon and only be home the next day after his watch. Ross had always thought of himself as a hard drinker but he’d long since realised that Jim could drink him under the table several times over and still be able to get up the next morning and function perfectly normally. It had been demonstrated a few times and the hangovers simply weren’t worth the contest.

There was a knock at the door and he went to it, opening ti and seeing Lucy standing there with a big grin on her face.

‘Show time.’ she said.

They walked from the hotel to the club, which thankfully only took five minutes. She took them in the side door and Ross followed her through a maze of passages and into the club. It was in an old building with wooden floors and black painted walls. There was only one main podium, solidly constructed of reclaimed polished wood. The pole in the middle was shiny chrome and the uplighters set into the edge of the podium made it look like it was bathed in light.

‘Bloody hell.’ Ross said and Lucy chuckled.

‘Come on.’ she said. ‘We’ll get you to have a couple of tries to get used to it and then we’ll get you dressed.’

**********

Jim sighed inwardly. Up ahead of him Sellar was talking to the captain of the Defensora. There was a problem. It seemed that an inordinately large number of officers had come down with a virulent form of food poisoning due to them going out the previous night and getting a late night/early morning kebab. They were in disgrace and the dinner was cancelled.

‘All dressed up and nowhere to fucking go.’ Preston grumbled.

‘At least we found out now.’ Halford said.

‘I wonder if they realise just how much effort has been put into tonight. The galleys going to fucking spit when they hear this.’ Jim said. Sellar finished his conversation, gave the Brazilian captain a friendly slap on the shoulder and came over to them.

‘Well that’s all off.’ he said. ‘I’d better go down and tell the others. The galley is going to lynch me.’

‘That’s what I said.’ Jim replied. Sellar shrugged.

‘Can’t be helped.’ he said, then looked at Jim. ‘At least you can go to your stag do now.’

‘Yeah.’ Preston said, her face lighting up. ‘We fucking can.’ All three of them had been invited by Holmewood but had had to beg off.

‘I don’t know.’ Jim said. ‘Ross said they’re going to some club in Bournemouth that’s like guest list only.’

‘So we call Carter and tell him to put our arses on the list.’ Preston said taking out her phone and dialling. She waited for him to answer then walked away a little, although she might not have bothered her voice was so loud. ‘Oi, motherfucker. We got the night off.’ There was a pause as she listened. ‘Yeah all three of us. Put us on the list. Brill, we’ll see you soon.’ She hung up and waved the phone triumphantly at Jim and Halford.

‘Sorted.’

**********

Ross sat in the chair with his back to the mirror. The tiny dressing room he was in was not use very regularly, the other dancers preferring the bigger communal one next door. It was grubby and dusty but it meant that he at least had some privacy.

In front of him, Lucy frowned in concentration, her tongue protruding just the tiniest bit between her lips as she worked. She was already made up for her set, her skin dusted with gold glitter and her eyes made up in elaborate Egyptian style make up.

‘Almost done.’ she said and Ross heaved a sigh. He felt like he’d been sitting there forever. ‘Look up.’ He tried not to blink as she got right in close brandishing the mascara wand like a weapon.

‘I don’t know how the fuck you do this every day.’ he said. Lucy laughed.

‘You get used to this. Just be thankful that your eyelashes are long enough not to need false ones.’ she said, wiggling the wand into the lash line and making his nose itch from the weird sensation. ‘Christ, you have gorgeous fucking eyes. I could make so much money if I had eyes like yours.’

‘I’m taking that as a compliment.’ Ross said, immensely thankful when she finished. He blinked a couple of times to clear his eyes. His lashes felt strangely heavy.

‘You should.’ She said standing back and looking at him critically. ‘If you make more tips than me tonight you are bloody well sharing. Well, stand up and have a look at yourself.’ Ross got, teetering a little on the unfamiliar height. Then he turned and his mouth fell open in shock when he saw himself.

His first thought was Oh, fuck me. His second thought was that he looked pretty damn good. His third thought was that Jim was going to freak when he finally got to see him like this (although that would not happen for a very long time).

He’d kept it fairly simple and gone with a biker chic theme that he’d thought would appeal to Jim. The corset was streamlined black leather, with a very slight sweetheart neckline. A bright chromed zip ran down the front and there were metal eyelets one the opposite side. There were buckles on the hips and sides of the chest. At the back were another two rows of eyelets with lacing running from the top to the bottom. Added to that were a pair of black stretch briefs that matched the corset, cut very high on the arse. He had been dubious about them, but Lucy had declared them perfect. Then the stockings, also black and sheer enough not to be dark but also thick enough not to snag. Those had taken several tries to get right and he’d had to go back a few times to buy more. They were clipped to the suspenders that ran from the bottom of the corset and made his legs look like they went on forever. The final touch were the boots, black and laced up the front, a little homage to his profession. They looked surprisingly like army boots, if army boots had block heels that was.

Ross turned his attention to his face and that was where the real magic had happened. Lucy was an artist. She used black shadow and glitter on his eyes and ringed them with an excess of black eyeliner, in and out and tamed his dark eyebrows into some semblance of style. It all made his irises look like they were glowing. The rest of his face she’d left fairly plain except for a hint of shimmer along his cheekbones and lips. She had left his hair untouched and it was a surprisingly soft contrast with the rest of his ensemble.

‘Fucking hell, Luce.’ he breathed. ‘If I make more tips than you tonight you can have all of them.’

‘I’m glad you like it.’ she said, then held out the elbow length black leather fingerless gloves he would also be wearing. She helped him put them on, and then they heard the music change. Both dressing rooms had speakers linked up to the main sound system so the dancers knew when one set was ending and one was beginning.

‘Time for me to go.’ Lucy said. ‘You’re going to kill them tonight.’

‘I hope so.’ Ross said turning back to look at himself once more. Lucy gave him a smile then left. Ross waited for her to close the door and then went to the bag for the final touch. He didn’t want anyone else to see it. It would be around his neck on stage, but only he would know the significance of it. He reached into the bag and pulled out the collar almost reverently. It was plain black leather with a chromed ring at the front, a standard bondage collar by all respects but with one subtle difference. The front loop had an o-ring on it and hanging from it was a sterling silver disc. He ran a thumb over the engraving. It had been outrageously expensive but the crest on it was rendered in perfect detail, the anchor and crown showing exactly who his owner was.

***********

Jim parked the car and went off to get a ticket while the girls extricated themselves. He’d been thankful to find a clean black button down in the wardrobe of his cabin and thrown it on over a white t-shirt and jeans. He stuck the ticket on the inside of his window and closed the door then locked the car. It was a black Golf GTI that he’d had for ten years, what Ross called his ‘boy racer’ car. He looked at Preston and Halford, both dressed to the nines in sparkly tops and matching denim micro minis, their long legs bare in spite of the cold. Preston was hopping up and down a little in excitement, no mean feat in six inch heels.

‘Come on, Jim.’ she said. ‘Let’s fucking go. No-one’s going to steal that piece of shit.’

‘This piece of shit got you here in record fucking time.’ He retorted and she giggled, taking his one arm. Halford got hold of the other one.

‘That’s more to do with the fact that you drive like a fucking maniac than anything else.’ Halford said.

They got down to the sea front, heading up one of the side streets to the address Carter had given them. The door to the club was suitably discreet and there was an enormous doorman on duty. He raised an unimpressed eye at them. Preston gave them his names and he stepped aside to let them in with an air of resignation.

‘Twat.’ Preston muttered as they went in. They followed a short corridor, painted black and dimly lit to the main room. Once inside they looked around. It was surprisingly small. Wooden tables and chairs scattered around the single podium. It was already after ten and it was clear that the three groups of people had been having a very good time.

The spotted the squad on the other side of the podium and made their way over. Carter spotted them first and cheered, which was then taken up by the rest of the group.

‘You made it!’ he said, and he was looking a little cross-eyed. None of the others seemed to be any better. Holmewood got up, grabbing Jim in a crushing bear hug.

‘You made it!’ he said, grinning from ear to ear, clearly drunk.

‘You’ve got a fuckload of drinking to catch up on.’ Richards said. He beckoned the server over and spoke into her ear. She went off and they found some empty chairs. On stage a gorgeous woman was dancing to Walk Like An Egyptian, her lithe body twisting around the pole like she weighed nothing.

‘Woof!’ Preston said. ‘She’s beautiful.’ The server returned with shots and beers and handed them out. She took hers and saluted Holmewood with it. ‘Your good health, Captain.’ The other two saluted him as well and threw their shots back. Jim pulled a face.

‘Why always the fucking tequila?’ he asked then looked around. ‘Where’s Ross?’

‘Er, he’s in the…head.’ Carter said. Jim frowned at him.

‘Really?’ he said.

‘Yeah.’ Carter said, looking like he was panicking slightly. Jim thought he knew why. Ross was not a good tequila drinker.

‘Is he throwing up already?’ he asked. Carter looked like he was trying to think up a really good cover story and Jim was about to call him on it when the song came to an end and the DJ announced the end of the set in her sultry voice.

‘That was the gorgeous Cleopatra, mistress of the exotic.’ There was enthusiastic applause. ‘But now I have been told we have a special guest in tonight. Will the Rt Honourable Rupert Holmewood stand up and take a bow?’ The group cheered and catcalled and shoved Holmewood off his chair so he was wavering gently in the spotlight directed on him. ‘I believe that Captain Holmewood is going to be marrying quote ‘the most terrifying woman in the Royal Tank Regiment’. Is that correct?’ Holmewood attempted a courtly bow and almost fell on his face.

‘It is!’ he shouted back. ‘She’s the light of my fucking life!’

‘That’s very good to hear.’ the DJ laughed. ‘We would hate to think that you would be tempted by our next exquisite dancer who has been especially commissioned just for you.’ There was a series of oohs from the squad and Holmewood grinned goofily. The stage lights went down and he was pulled into his seat. ‘And she is a rare beauty, the darling of the armed forces. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the beautiful Rosalind.’ There was more cheering from the assembled audience.

‘Shit,’ Jim said looking around, ‘Ross is going to miss this.’

‘Maybe not.’ Halford said cryptically. Jim was about to ask what she meant when the opening harpsichord notes of Bad Romance started and the lights slowly came up. A tall figure in black leather and stockings and knee high boots was standing in front of them facing away, leather gloved hands over the dancer's dark head head and grasping the pole. Then as Gaga’s voice kicked in they lifted the dancer up effortlessly to move around the pole.

There was sudden silence as the gathered squad watched the elaborate twirl around the pole that followed.

‘Holy fuck.’ Carter said. ‘He fucking didn’t…’

‘He fucking did.’ Digby said.

‘Who fucking what?’ Holmewood asked.

Across from him, Jim was spellbound. He was pretty sure he’d never seen anything so captivating. He’d already clocked that the dancer was a man, a tall, lithe and graceful one to boot. He was dressed in black leather reminiscent of bike gear and those long legs drew Jim’s eyes as the dancer hooked one ankle around the pole and lowered himself down, arms spread like he was being crucified. That was when Jim saw his face and the bottom fell out of his already lurching stomach.

‘Oh. My. Fuck.’ Preston said next to him. ‘It’s Ross!’

*********

Ross was having a surprising amount of fun. He’d been ready to throw up he was so nervous when he went onto the narrow stage and taken his place by the pole. But once the music kicked in and he lifted himself into the first position, the nerves magically melted away and he could focus just on what he was doing.

As he lowered on his first set piece, he could just make out people beyond the stage lights. He realised that the crowd had gone largely silent on the left hand side of him and correctly surmised that that was where the squad was sitting.  
Lucy had choreographed a three song set for him, fairly technically easy but very impressive to watch. She’d taught him to capitalise on his upper body strength and he swung around the pole easily, hooking his ankle and elbow to keep himself going as he took the next hold. The first song was pretty energetic but it would get progressively slower. He reached behind him, grasping the pole and pulling himself upright, using the crook of his knee to keep himself in place as he let go of the pole and leaned back. After a few revolutions, he reached back up and lowered himself to the floor.

The song ended and the next started. It was Slide by Missy Elliot and it was slower, and he used it to do the more complex moves that Lucy had taught him. He slid down the pole, knees splaying out and running his hands along his inner thighs then snapped back up, tossing his head and jumping into a hold, moving around the pole at speed. This was the bit he liked best, building up momentum, only touching the ground to push up and into the twirls and holds.

It ended as well, and then the finally song started up. This was the one he had chosen and refused to swap out. It was one of the songs he and Jim had chosen for what they did together in that hot room at the back of the house, and the part of the routine that he was hoping to show him, when he’d built up the confidence, although God knew where he’d find a pole to do it on. But as he moved it was Jim he was thinking about, him the words were for.

***********

Jim watched and felt like his heart was going to burst with the sudden rush of feeling the last song brought with it.

_Here is a plea_

_From my heart to you_

_Nobody knows me as well as you do_

_You know how hard it is for me to shake the disease_

_That takes hold of my tongue in situations like these_

The song was theirs. The words held special meaning for them both and it was one that had accompanied many of those moments together. And watching Ross dance up there, Jim could see that he was lost in it, completely unaware of the people watching him. It was also when he noticed something else, when Ross curled his arm around the pole and leaned back out, body describing a protracted arc around the pole and exposing the long beautiful line of his throat. That was when Jim saw the collar.

If he hadn’t already been indescribably turned on before, he was now.

**********

Ross came down gently, his feet hitting the ground with barely a jolt. He was thrilled. Every step had been perfect, but now was the best part. As the applause rose around him, he gave the audience a courtly bow and stepped back, waiting for the stage hand to bring out the chair.

This was the bit he was really looking forward to. Not with Holmewood of course, but as a dry run for Jim.

The music faded away and the DJ took up her microphone again. Ross stood to one side, chest heaving from exertion, to let the pole retract into the ceiling and the man from behind the stage dragged a weighted chair onto the stage. It needed to be very heavy to counteract the dancers’ weight and Ross was heavier than most of them, so some modifications had been made.

‘And now, a special moment for our groom to be. A private dance with the lovely Rosalind.’ The DJ crooned. ‘Well, as private as it gets in front of a stage full of people. Captain Holmewood, if you would like to come up?’

Ross watched as Holmewood was shoved towards the small step that led up to the stage. He climbed up, a little unsteady on his feet. Ross smiled and went over, taking him by the hand and guiding him to the chair. Holmewood squinted at him.

‘Fucking hell.’ He said, words slurring. ‘You look like a girl.’

‘Really?’ Ross laughed. ‘Even with the body hair?’ he shoved Holmewood onto the chair. ‘The boys have promised to buy all my drinks tonight if I get you to blush. So don’t think I’m going to go easy on you.’ He straddled Holmewood's knees and grasped the back of the chair with one hand. ‘So get ready, it’s not going to be pretty.’

The song started, the child’s sweet voice filling the club. Then the beat started and he began to dance.

_How could you leave me standing?_

_Alone in a world that is so cold_

_Maybe I’m just too demanding_

_Maybe I’m just like my father, too bold_

_Maybe I’m just like my mother, she’s never satisfied_

_Why do we scream at each other?_

_This is what it sounds like,_

_When doves cry_

And he was right. It wasn’t pretty. It was filthy and overtly sexual and Ross just threw himself into it. He did have a nights worth of drinks riding on it after all. He was also feeling very confident after the wonderful reaction his pole dance had got so he really didn’t care anymore what he looked like. And he’d chosen this song for himself. It was one he loved and he knew every nuance of it. He kept his movements in time with the music and Holmewood’s eyes widened. Ross allowed himself a crooked smile as he leaned over him, dragging his hands down Holmewood’s chest and stomach, thankful for the layers of clothing, before snapping back up, undulating over him. It was a little strange, but then he imagined it was Jim he was dancing for and closed his eyes, picturing what he would look like under him, the quickening of his breath. Before he knew it the music was changing again to Death in Vegas, the final song. Ross turned languidly, sitting on Holmewoods lap and bending forward until he was up again, hands running down the backs of his legs. He reached out, hands to the floor and lowered himself down, crawling slowly across the stage until he was a little way from the chair, turning onto his back and arching as he ran his hands down himself. Then he sat up, moving back onto his knees to go back, shoving Holmewoods knees apart and coming up slowly until he was back over him. He straightened up as the final strains came and then sat down on Holmewoods lap, legs coming up to hook over his shoulders and ankles locking behind Holmewood’s neck as he leaned back and took the final position. The lights cut out and then there was silence for a few moments. Then the applause started. It was thunderous.

Ross was panting hard from the past ten minute’s dancing and didn’t notice anything wrong at first. But then his senses started to re-focus and then he noticed something digging into his back.

And it wasn’t Holmewood’s mobile phone.

‘Fuck.’ he said and lost his grip, falling in a heap on the floor. Mortified he got up and headed backstage without even bothering to check of Holmewood was okay. It was only when he got to the dressing room and slammed the door behind him that he realised what he’d done.

He’d given Holmewood, his best friend and the straightest man alive, a hard on.

For a moment, Ross was horrified. Then something snapped and he started laughing. It started as a snort and got louder until he was giggling like a small child. If he’d managed to give Holmewood, who wasn’t even attracted to him, a hard on then just imagine what it would do to Jim. He was now determined to try it out on him as soon as he could set it up.

He calmed himself down and decided to get out of his costume as soon as possible. He was hot and sweaty, rivulets of it running down his back and into his briefs, his chest hair was matted with it and when he looked in the mirror he could see that he was flushed, although the eyeliner was doing a remarkable job of staying where it was. The glitter was another story, a great deal of it having migrated over his face. He looked like a fabulous miner.

**********

Preston was finally managing to get her frantic laughter under control. It had been Holmewood's look of complete an utter terror towards the end of Ross’ extremely sexy routine that had set her off. Around her the other members of the squad had managed to get a shell shocked Holmewood off stage and into a chair where they were feeding him beer in an attempt to restore his composure.

She wiped her eyes and looked around. It was then that she noticed something.

‘Jackie?’ she asked, ‘Where’s Jim?’

***********

Ross was debating as to whether he should tackle his make-up or boots first when there was a knock at the dressing room door. Thinking it was probably Lucy coming to laugh with him at the reaction he’d got he went to it without hesitation and opened it with a brilliant smile.

It wasn’t Lucy.

For a moment Ross was frozen. The look of Jim’s face could have killed at twenty paces. It was utterly feral. Ross had never seen him like that before. As his brain frantically tried to reconcile the fact that his boyfriend, who was currently supposed to be at a formal naval dinner entertaining visiting Brazilian sailors and absolutely nowhere near fucking Bournemouth, was actually now standing in front of him and looking like he wanted to kill Ross, he tried to think of something clever to say to defuse the very obvious situation that was at hand.

Instead all that came out was a squeak.

‘You’re supposed to be at dinner.’ Ross said. Jim’s eyes actually got more murderous, as if that was in any way possible.

‘You…’ he spat out and Ross was so taken aback that he actually physically retreated.

‘Jim…’ he started, but Jim cut him off.

‘No. I don’t want to hear it.’ he said, and Ross was ashamed to admit that the anger in his voice was probably one of the hottest things he’d ever heard. Jim sounded completely unhinged. He stormed in, slamming the door once more and came towards Ross. Ross backed up until he hit the edge of the dressing table. Jim crowded against him, and then it hit Ross.

Jim wasn’t angry.

He was aroused.

Very, very aroused.

‘So who do I have to fuck to get a private dance around here?’ he growled in Ross’ face and Ross felt his knees give way at the raw lust he heard in Jim’s voice.

‘That would be me.’ he said, and he could hear the tremble in his voice. He managed to get one hand up and push Jim away. ‘But you’d have to sit down for that. He guided Jim backwards until he could push him into the chair. His heart was pounding wildly and he was getting very hard very fast.

Jim went easily, sitting down and looking up at him, his blue-green eyes on fire. Ross stopped in front of him and Jim reached for him, hands running up the backs of his thighs. Ross wasn’t sure why he did what he did next, but he slapped Jim’s hands away.

‘We have rules here.’ he found himself saying. There was a flash of surprise in Jim’s eyes and then the arousal was back, burning even hotter than it had before.

‘Really.’ he said, his voice low and rough. ‘And what would those be.’

‘No touching.’ Ross said. ‘Only I’m allowed to touch you.’ He was starting to pant again, but this time it had nothing to do with physical exertion.

‘All right.’ Jim said, ‘I can do that.’ He leaned back in the chair and Ross took a deep breath as he came to straddle his knees. He could hardly breathe and it was only by focusing on the music that was coming through the sound system that he was able to recall what he needed to do. The heavy beats were perfect and he started to move.

_You let me violate you_

_You let me desecrate you_

_You let me penetrate you_

_You let me complicate you_

_Help me_

He started by placing both hands behind Jim’s head, bracing against the back of the chair, hips moving in slow undulations. His face was so close to Jim’s he could see his pupils dilating. There was tequila on his breath, and a hopelessly hot smell coming from his skin. Ross caught his breath as it hit him, going straight to his cock. He’d never felt this hard before and they hadn’t even touched yet. He leaned in, letting his mouth almost touch Jim’s skin but not quite, moving over his mouth and along his cheekbone. Jim moaned and tilted his head back and Ross dipped his head and licked in one long movement from the crook of his neck to his jaw, the acrid sting of sweat and aftershave on his tongue. He breathed over Jim’s ear and was pretty sure that he heard Jim lose his breath for a moment. He flicked his tongue against Jim’s ear and the sound he got was drawn out and low, it's tone pure sex.

‘Fuck, Ross…’ Jim breathed. ‘Oh God…’ he started panting, a harsh short sound that got louder as Ross ground down against him, hard cocks connecting and Jim arched up against him. Ross thrust down again and then lifted up teasingly. He looked down and saw that Jim’s hands were clenched in fists, knuckles white with the effort not to touch him. He looked back at Jim, into the wide blown eyes and felt a surge of power he’d never experienced before. For a moment he wondered if this was what Jim felt when he dominated him. Then he dragged his nails down Jim’s chest, finding the hard nipples through the fabric of his shirt. Ross ran his thumbs over them and Jim gasped.

‘Harder.’ he hissed and Ross lowered his head, biting at them through his shirt, first one and then the other. Jim was shaking now, and he closed his eyes tightly, the ecstasy written clearly on his face. Ross grabbed the hem of his shirt, dragging it up to expose his chest and then sucked hard at one nipple, fingers working the other. Jim keened loudly, and Ross thought for a second that he was going to break and touch him, but he didn’t. An evil thought suddenly kicked off inside Ross, and he knew what he wanted more than anything.

He wanted Jim to lose control.

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

He bit down, a little harder than he normally would, teeth dragging over Jim’s nipple and heard the answering groan. He dropped one hand to the front of Jim’s jeans, finding his cock and taking it in hand as best he could. Then he lifted his mouth from Jim’s skin as he worked his cock and started talking.

He knew that Jim like dirty talk but they didn’t do it too much, mostly because he felt ridiculous doing it. But tonight all the rules were being turned upside down. He looked down at here his hand was moving on Jim’s cock and then back up at him.

‘You’re so fucking hard.’ He breathed and Jim’s eyes flew open, wide and unfocused. ‘Your cock feels so big and all I want is to have it inside me. I want to feel every inch of it going in, and the fucking me so hard I can’t breathe.’

‘Oh Jesus Christ…’Jim breathed back, ‘I want to be inside you so fucking much.’

‘Yeah?’ Ross asked, his hand working faster now. ‘You want to fuck me? You want to go hard and deep?’

‘Yes.’ Jim’s voice was cracked and broken. He sounded wrecked already. ‘I want that so much.’ His eyes downcast, watching Ross’ hand on him. As he looked up a strange look crossed his face and Ross realised that he was looking at the collar. Ross knew the moment he saw the tag and the crest because it felt like he’d stopped breathing for a minute. He watched Jim’s face carefully, even stopping what he was doing when he noticed that Jim was just staring at it.

‘It’s for you.’ he stammered. ‘It’s to show that I’m yours. That I belong to you.’ He waited for Jim to look up at him, and then what he saw was more than he could have possibly asked for.

Jim’s eyes were glowing with love and pride and happiness. It made Ross’ heart feel like it was going to explode.

Then the glow disappeared, replaced by a raging fire that surged and flickered. And then Jim grabbed him hard, pulling Ross forward against him and just lifted him out of the chair with him. He carried them both, going with the momentum until they slammed into the dressing room door. Then he held Ross there.

‘Kiss me.’ he demanded and Ross did, mouths crashing together, no formalities needed as they shoved their tongues into each other’s mouths, hot and wet and messy. Ross was trapped between Jim’s body and the door, Jim’s hands under his knees keeping him up and his hard thrusts pinning him in place. It was dirty, hard dry fucking and Ross was going crazy with it. He moaned and whined into Jim’s mouth, his cock straining for release. Then Jim suddenly dropped him and pulled away from him. He was on his knees before Ross even realised what he was doing, hands at the briefs Ross wore, swearing in frustration before he got hold of the fabric in both hands and just ripped it.

‘Oh fucking hell…’ Ross panted.

‘Shut up.’ Jim snapped, before grabbing the other side and doing the same thing, dragging them off Ross and chucking them on the floor. He grasped Ross’ cock and licked the head and Ross nearly went through the roof. Jim wasted no time, taking him all the way in, sucking hard. Ross grabbed at his hair with both hands, crying out and Jim backed him against the door. Ross watched his blond head moving back and forwards and threw his head back as the sensations overwhelmed him. He looked ahead and saw them in the mirror, him with his mouth open as he panted and moaned, and Jim’s blond head moving in a steady rhythm. It was utterly intoxicating and he was compelled to watch.

‘Oh God, Jim.’ he moaned, ‘This is so good. I’m watching us in the mirror and its’ so fucking hot.’ Jim pulled off, and he looked over his shoulder briefly, then back at Ross.

‘You like that?’ he rasped and Ross nodded frantically. Jim got up, using Ross as leverage and then backed him into the door again, eyes glittering.

‘You want to watch me fuck you in the mirror?’ he asked and Ross could hardly answer him, he was breathing so hard. He settled for nodding. Jim grabbed him by both arms and dragged him away from the door. He turned Ross and steered him back towards the chair. Then he let him go long enough to spin the chair around to the back was against the edge of the dressing table.

‘On your knees.’ he said to Ross. ‘I want to fuck you from behind so we can both watch.’ Ross scrambled onto the chair, Jim coming up behind him. He pushed Ross forward so Ross had to kneel on the chair with his hands on the dressing table, then came up behind him and reached down and pulled Ross legs open further. ‘That’s it.’ he said, ‘I want you open for me.’ He wet his thumb in his mouth and then it was at Ross’ entrance, circling, the saliva mingling with the sweat and the pushing in. Ross braced himself on the dressing table and looked up, his face inches away from the mirror with its row of light bulbs that illuminated everything. His face was sweaty and flushed, the eye make-up a running mess and his light coat of lip shimmer gone. Instead his mouth was swollen and bruised and he watched himself as Jim used his thumb to stretch him. He looked up and their eyes connected.

‘Fuck me, Jim.’ Ross said. ‘Fuck me like this. Show me who I belong to.’ He knew he was pushing but he wanted it, wanted it so badly he could taste it. He was so hard and he reached for himself, groaning as he stroked his cock.

‘Fuck.’ Jim said. He knelt on the edge of the chair and then his tongue was on Ross, and he howled as Jim licked at him, tongue dipping in and alternating with his fingers until Ross was wet and loose and desperate to be fucked.

‘Come on.’ he begged. ‘Fuck me. Please.’ Jim growled against him and the he straightened up and Ross watched as he undid his belt and almost tore open his jeans, shoving them and his boxers down until his cock was out. Then he spat in his hand a few times and used it to wet himself and Ross almost came from seeing that. He lined himself up, grabbed Ross’s hips and drove inside him with no consideration or finesse, making Ross scream and move his hand so both were bracing himself again. It burned and stretched in a way he had never experienced and that made him realise just how far gone Jim was. But instead of wanting to stop, knowing how out of control Jim was just made him want to go faster and harder, to make him incoherent with want.

‘Please.’ he groaned, ‘Please…’ Jim moaned loudly and then he was moving, pounding into Ross so hard, he almost hit the mirror. Ross cried out, and tried to push back but the surface of the table was plasticised and slippery and he could get enough grip. He threw out one hand to brace against the mirror, looking up to watch them. It was incredibly arousing, Jim’s face almost angry in its intensity, all his control gone as he slammed into Ross harder than he’d ever fucked him before. The sound of their bodies impacting was loud in Ross’ ears, their harsh animal grunts and pants filling him up and making him crazy.

‘Fuck…’ Jim ground out through gritted teeth, the vowel drawn out. ‘You’re so fucking tight…oh, fuck, Ross!’ He was quickly losing rhythm and Ross went with him, knowing he didn’t need to be touched to come tonight, that all he had to do was keep up. He knew Jim was close and clenched hard, and Jim growled like an angry dog and gave him a resounding slap on his exposed backside. His blunt nails scrabbled at Ross’ thighs, ripping the stockings and pulling him open even more, driving relentlessly. Ross looked up, his eyes locking with Jim’s in the mirror. Jim was gone, eyes black and blown and his mouth open as he panted. Ross smiled at him, a blissful shattered smile.

‘Come on.’ he demanded, ‘Come inside me.’ He clenched again and Jim dragged his nails over him and then Ross felt the tidal surge of orgasm coming for him. It was so intense that he completely lost control and knew that when it hit he would be able to do nothing but take it.

‘Yes.’ Jim moaned with him. ‘You’re mine. Mine. No-one else will ever fuck you but me. Say it!’

‘I’m yours.’ Ross gasped, ‘Only yours. Yours to fuck forever.’ As the word left his mouth his orgasm hit, making him scream and collapse against the mirror as he came all over the chair. Jim followed, harsh cry making him hoarse, and Ross felt himself being filled, the warmth inside him marking him as Jim’s.

Jim shuddered through his aftershocks, and the collapsed against Ross, chest heaving and breathing completely erratic. They stayed like that, incapable of moving.

Jim finally raised his head.

‘Bloody hell, Ross.’ he muttered. ‘You could have fucking warned me.’ Ross met his eyes in the mirror, glazed over and wrecked.

‘How the fuck was I to know you’d react like this?’ he protested, but it sounded weak in his ears. Jim huffed a soft laugh and then slowly pulled out. He grabbed a discarded hand towel from the dressing table and wiped himself down, then pulled his jeans back up. Then he took the two steps back to the door and leaned against it heavily.

Ross was so exhausted he could hardly move. Then he felt it, a slow trickle of coolness down the inside of his thighs. He reached down with one hand, dragging through it. He brought his hand up, looking at Jim’s semen on his fingers. It smelt so strongly of him and Ross couldn’t help himself. He licked it off, the taste bitter and so inherently Jim on his tongue. Then he looked up again to see Jim watching him, eyes completely focused on him. Ross gave him a crooked smile.

‘I love you.’ he said. Jim’s eyes glowed as he looked back at him.

‘And I fucking love you.’ he replied.


	3. Riptide

For[ padblack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PadBlack/pseuds/PadBlack) \- <3 An great friend who has excellent taste in rollercoasters and writes the cutest darn Baby Durins ever :D

Jim/Ross Modern AU - Jim gets to meet Ross’ family.

Trigger warning for family issues.

Ross was nervous, the sick tight feeling in his stomach making him nauseous to the point where he’d been unable to eat anything before getting in the car and starting the four hour car trip ahead of him. He knew that if Jim could see him like this, he’d get a lecture about looking after himself followed by French toast. God, he missed him. And he’ only been gone for six days.

Christmas in the Armed forces was not a given. And Jim had literally three days off, starting midday on Christmas Eve until midday the day after Boxing Day and then he had to be back for watch. Then it was a push through until the twentieth of January when the Dragon was heading to South America for a six months deployment to the Panama Canal.

Ross sighed a he wondered for the thousandth time why he was putting himself through this and not heading to Somerset instead to go spend Christmas with the man he loved and his erstwhile mother-in-law. He adored Rose, and when Jim had told him about their usual way to spend Christmas, which involved mostly lying around in their pyjamas and eating roast beef and roast potatoes while watching the inevitable rerun of Zulu and drinking beer (nothing with a cork Jim had informed him laughing), he’d been incredibly jealous. He hated Christmas, hated the long drive to get there, the pompous formality, the need to dress appropriately and, more than anything, the four days of constant disapproval he’d be subjected to.

He got onto the A35 and settled in to drive, playing back the conversation he’d had with his mother a week earlier.

‘But, darling we haven’t seen you in over a year.’ Liv had said, ‘It would be awfully selfish of you to drop everything to spend it with him.’ Ross had grimaced as she said that. She couldn’t even bring herself to say Jim’s name.

What made it worse was how she’d said it, like he’d been the one to make that decision, like he’d been the one who’d kept them away when he’d gotten back. It had taken all of his restraint not to point out that they had only checked in with him when they’d gotten back in early September. He certainly wouldn’t repeat to her the language Jim had used when he’d told him what she’d said (although he’d very wisely left out the fact that Liv referred to Jim as ‘him’).

He knew Jim was overly protective of him, growling like a compact golden pit bull whenever someone threatened to upset him, but this was his family and he’d reasoned with him, saying that he was fine and could handle anything they dished out. He hadn’t been too explicit about the relationship he had with his parents, as different an experience as an only child as one could get when compared with Jim’s childhood. Jim knew that they were distant and disapproving of the fact that Ross was gay. They knew about him and Jim, although he had been equally vague about the information that he gave them. He’d told them that he and Jim had been seeing each other for over a year, that he was in the Navy and that he was from Somerset. But that had pretty much been it.

He hadn’t told them how Jim had almost single-handedly saved him from himself, or how he was now tasked with keeping Ross together, his hands and mouth and body and heart the implements of healing that Ross worshipped above all other things. How that even the thought of being without him for these few days made him edgy and sharp. But he’d agreed. And while Jim had not been thrilled, he’d understood and assured Ross that they could spend New Year together.

The scenery sped past and Ross zoned out, letting the long miles wash over until the undulating downs leveled out and the fields gave way to moors as he hit Bodmin Moor. Then it was a short drive to the A390 where he turned off and then down towards the Roseland peninsula and the house he’d grown up in for most of the time, apart from when he was at boarding school.

He hadn’t really told Jim just how wealthy his family was, keeping it under wraps. He knew that Jim and Rose had been well provided for when Robert had died, but Jim had gone to an ordinary grammar school and then done his degree at Bath, nothing remarkable about him at all. And while he’d spent his weekends working in his mother’s pub or training with his swimming club, Ross had played polo and been shuttled from society event to society event by his upwardly mobile parents, all eyeing any number of pretty long-legged girls with minor titles with the intention of marrying him off to someone that could take them to the next level.

Ironically it was the only thing they liked about the fact that he’d gone into the Army. The fact that he’d been rubbing elbows with minor royals had excited them enormously, and they were quite happy to wave his status as an officer around when they were entertaining while berating him for choosing so poorly in the career department in private. It was enough to make you pull your hair out. And when they’d met Holmewood it had been almost embarrassing.

Ross got to the end of the A390 and turned off onto the A road that would take him down towards St Just. His parent’s house was just on the outskirts set in twenty acres of land and gardens. The light was fading quickly and he wanted to get in and settled before it was really dark.

The house itself was set at the end of a long drive, and Ross could just make out the lights from the mullioned windows as he drove up the driveway, parking outside and noting that there was another car parked there that he didn’t recognise.

He got out, grabbing his bag from the back seat and going to the front door. He rang the doorbell, not actually possessing a key. There was the sound of footsteps and then his father opened the door. Jonathan Poldark was tall and leanly built, like his son. Ross had also inherited his father’s dark good looks, although his hazel eyes were lighter than Jon’s brown ones, so dark they almost veered to black. They gave his face a hawk-like look.

‘Ross.’ he said, extending his hand formally and Ross took it, shaking formally as he’d been taught to do.

‘Dad.’ Ross answered, their dance around each other as stiff and exact as always. He had no idea what his father felt about him at the best of times. Jon stepped aside and he came in, stopping to shed his thick coat and hand it up at the front door.

‘You can leave your bag. Heather will take it up for you. Your mother has put you in your old room.’ Ross would have smiled at the words his father said every single time he came t visit, if they hadn’t been indicative of the distance between them.

The house dated from the seventeenth century, and the front hall was vast, the polished floorboards echoing as he followed his father to the drawing room. The wood panelled walls shone in the firelight, and Ross saw his mother engaged in conversation with someone he didn’t recognise at first. But then she turned and Ross’ stomach lurched as he saw who it was.

‘Darling.’ his mother said, her beautiful face creased in a light frown. ‘You’re late.’

‘I’m sorry.’ he said, responding automatically, still thrown by the situation he now found himself in.

‘Next time you should leave earlier.’ Liv said. Then she smiled, and he saw a trace of smugness in it. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say hello to our guest?’

‘Of course.’ he replied and turned to the young woman sitting in the chair opposite his mother. ‘Hello, Elizabeth.’ She smiled at him.

‘Hello Ross.’ she replied.

Dinner was torture as he’d expected. Heather, their housekeeper was dressed up in that ridiculous outfit his mother made her wear to serve, and they were all scattered around the enormous dining table that could seat twenty people.

‘So, darling, tell us about what you’ve been up to.’ Liv was cutting her salmon into tiny pieces, spearing them one at a time to each them. Ross reached for his wine glass and drank before answering.

‘I’m training down at Lulworth.’ he said. It was a subject he’d been dreading.

‘But surely you’ve been passed as medically fit.’ Jon said, frowning at him.

‘It’s not just about being medically fit.’ Ross replied. ‘I still have to pass my six month psych evaluation.’

‘But surely they can’t think there’s anything wrong with you?’ Elizabeth said.

‘Of course not.’ Liv interjected. ‘That would be absurd. There’s nothing wrong with you.’

‘Actually a lot of soldiers come back with PTSD.’ Ross said, hoping against hope to open a line of debate that might actually be positive.

‘That’s only the enlisted men, not the officers.’ Liv said. ‘And that stands to reason that their education levels would be lower so they are easily influenced. You’re an officer, darling. You’re of a different class altogether.’ She pushed aside her plate, dinner hardly touched. ‘Now lets go have coffee in the drawing room and Elizabeth can tell you everything she’s been up to.’

Ross finally managed to escape up to his room by begging off on account of the long drive, although his mother’s face told him he’d be paying for that in cutting remarks later. He got inside, shutting the door behind him, thankful to finally be alone.

He took out his phone and checked. There were no missed calls or messages and he debated as to whether to call Jim or not. It was a little after ten, and he knew Jim had morning watch which meant he had to be up at four in the morning, and was no doubt asleep. Even so, the horrible edge to his thoughts were enough to seriously consider calling him. In the end he settled for a quick text. Then he got undressed and went to shower. He came back out and pulled on his sweats he used to sleep in when he needed to be dressed, added a t-shirt and got into bed. He took his phone with him, hoping against hope that Jim would call, but he didn’t. Ross finally dropped of sometime around one and his dreams were unsettling.

His phone woke him, and Ross started awake. He fumbled for the phone, connecting the call and answering it without having to see who it was. No-one else would be calling him at three-forty five in the morning.

‘Jim.’ he said, and there was a beat of silence.

‘You were sleeping.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘It’s fine.’ Ross said. ‘I’m glad you called.’ He sat up, scratching his head and yawning. ‘You going on watch?’

‘In fifteen minutes.’ Jim said. There was another beat of silence. ‘Ross, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ Ross said, taken by surprise. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You don’t sound fine.’ Jim said. ‘You sound tense.’

‘It’s nothing. Family shit.’ Ross said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. He hoped he was being convincing enough for Jim to drop it.

‘Shit.’ Jim was moving around and Ross could hear the clatter of things in the background. ‘I have to go. I’ll call you when I get off watch.’

‘I can’t.’ Ross said, rubbing his eyes. ‘I’ll be at church.’ There was silence on the other side.

‘Church?’ Jim finally said.

‘Yeah, it’s a family thing.’ Ross said. ‘I’ll call you when I’m done.’

‘All right.’ Jim said. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Ross replied, and Jim disconnected the call. He fell back on the pillow, staring at his phone, the background a picture of him and Jim at the last barbeque for the Tedworth support group he’d joined on Demelza’s urging. It was the two of them sitting next to each other on a low wall. He was laughing at the camera because Demelza had made an off colour remark about him and Jim looking so serious they looked like the couple in that weird American Gothic painting. Jim had his arms still folded but his head was tilted down because he was laughing so hard and trying to keep a straight face. Ross wished for a moment that it was up so he could see his eyes.

He flicked his thumb across the screen to his gallery, then ran through the photos on there. Jim wasn’t really one for photos, always moving around too quickly to be captured. But there were a few really nice shots of him, reading or sitting at the breakfast table. Ross’ favourite one was taken when they had gone down to Kimmeridge Bay on one of their regular morning trips so Jim could go swimming. He swam in the base pool, but he loved swimming in the ocean best and went every morning if he could. Ross had grown to love sitting on the pebbled beach, watching him swim out until he almost disappeared and them coming back. Jim was a powerful swimmer and Ross would time him. That morning he’d come out of the surf and the sun had hit him just right, turning him from a man into a mythical golden creature, a siren from the depths coming to steal Ross away and drag him to a watery doom with him. Ross had the suspicion that he would have gone gladly if it meant he could be with Jim forever. He’d taken the picture as Jim got him, dripping water and hair spiked up. Ross started at it for what seemed like forever until his eyes grew heavy and he finally dropped off again.

**********

The next morning Ross woke up feeling scratchy throated and out of sorts. But he dutifully dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom, showered and dressed in the neatly pressed clothes in his wardrobe that he only ever wore when he was home. He was pulling on a jumper when there was a knock at the door. It opened before he could call out though. It was Liv, her dark hair immaculate and her face perfectly made up.

‘We’re ready to go darling. And when we’re done your father and I thought we could all go have lunch in St Mawes. You and Elizabeth have a lot to catch, and there's a lovely new seafood restaurant down on the harbour wall.’ She came in giving him a critical look. ‘Maybe a different jumper, darling.’

Her tone rubbed Ross up the wrong way and he walked past her, closing the door and turning to her.

‘Why is she here?’ he asked and Liv blinked and looked surprised as of it had never occurred to her that he would ask.

‘I should think that’s obvious, Ross.’ she said. ‘You’re almost thirty you know. If you’re planning on settling down it should be sooner rather than later. Elizabeth’s young, she has a well-established career but it’s nothing so important that she couldn’t put it aside when you have children. And she still has feelings for you. I think it’s ideal. And what’s more she’s apparently not the slightest bit put off by that.’ Here she gestured vaguely at the scar on his face. ‘Although God knows why.’

‘How can you even think that would be possible?’ Ross was aghast. ‘I don’t know if you have been paying attention at all to what I have told you but I am already with someone.’

‘That,’ Liv said, the corners of her mouth turning down, ‘is hardly a proper relationship.’

‘How on Earth can you say that?’ Ross asked, disbelief colouring his voice. ‘Jim and I have been together for over a year. He’s my bloody emergency contact for Christ’s sake. I have sex with him on a regular basis.’

‘I really don’t need to know the sordid details of this fling you’re having with that man, Ross.’ she snapped. ‘It’s broken your father’s heart, I’ll have you know. The sooner you get over this ridiculous phase and settle down, the better. Now we are leaving in ten minutes.’ Not waiting for an answer, she turned and left the room. Ross watched her go, too stunned to react. He’d suspected something was up when he’d seen Elizabeth in the drawing room the previous evening, but hadn’t realised just how far his mother was willing to push it.

When he got downstairs they were all assembled and a wave of panic washed over him. It was red and it’s sharp claws plucked at his mind and he suddenly wanted nothing more that Jim’s solid comforting presence next to him, hand holding his and shoulders brushing.

‘Finally.’ his mother said, and her voice had an icy edge.

*********

Jim came off watch and checked his phone when he got back to his cabin. There was no call, not that he’d been expecting one. But he couldn’t shake the little nagging feeling at the back of his head that Ross wasn’t doing very well. He’d sounded stretched and worried the night before. He lay down on his bunk and dialled Rose.

‘Hello chicken.’ she said, sounding ridiculously happy for a woman in the middle of season. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine.’ he said. ‘I’m leaving at about twelve tomorrow and I should get to you around three if the traffic doesn’t fuck me up.’

‘With any luck.’ she said and there was a clash followed by swearing. Rose sighed. ‘Although there may be no pub to come home to if Jeffrey has his way.’ There was a deep throated laugh in the background and Jim smiled. Jeffrey had been Rose’s head chef since she opened the place and he was like an uncle to Jim. ‘Now he’s making obscene gestures at me. You coming on the bike?’

‘Yeah, it’ll be easier.’ Jim said. ‘And your present isn’t that big so I should manage.’

‘Well that’s either very good or very bad.’ she laughed. ‘Just make sure you get here in one piece. That’s all I want. Are you going to see Ross?’

‘No, he’s with his family until the twenty-seventh and then I’m back on watch.’ Jim said. He sighed and stretched out on his bunk, sleep catching up to him. ‘But I’m seeing him at New Year. I can give him his present then.’

‘It arrived then?’ Rose asked and Jim smiled.

‘Yeah, yesterday. It’s sitting on top of my wardrobe.’ He looked up at the package. ‘Right, I’m shattered. I’ll call you later.’

‘All right my love.’ Rose said. ‘I’ll chat to you later.’ Jim hung up and let his head fall back, arm over his eyes. He was out in minutes and didn’t wake when his phone vibrated an hour later.

************

Ross frowned as Jim’s voicemail came on.

‘It’s me.’ he said. ‘Just checking in. Call me when you get this.’ He sighed and put his phone in his pocket. He was standing in front of a very overpriced jewellery shop in St Mawes while his mother and Elizabeth were inside. They were giggling and throwing him conspiratorial looks and Ross knew he’d have to say something sooner or later. It was verging on ridiculous. His father of course was doing what he did best and pleading work. He’d had a call during the service, much to his mother’s disgust and then straight after had declared he needed to be somewhere and had dropped the three of them in town.

Ross finally decided that he needed a break after they dragged him towards yet another boutique. While they went inside he cast a look down towards to the harbour. He got there, and leaned back against the wall of a small row of shops. He desperately wanted a cigarette, but he and Jim had decided to give up together after their mutual relapse, so his pockets were empty. He heaved a sigh and watched as a pair of seagulls squabbled over a discarded chip. Then he pushed off the wall and took a slow meander towards the harbour wall. The third shop along was tiny, but the windows were filled with various militaria and it caught his eye. He was looking at several swords that he could see were from the Eighteenth century when something caught his eye. He went inside, the bell at the door tinkling. There was an older man behind the counter and he gave Ross a friendly smile.

Ross pointed out the item he was interested in and the man retrieved it from the display case in the window and handed it to him.

‘It’s an exceptionally fine example.’ he said to Ross who handled the object, noting the heaviness. He opened the case and looked at the compass inside. ‘The casing is solid silver as is the chain, which is original to the compass, and the dial is mother of pearl, a most unusual material for the period. It’s also un-engraved which makes it an ideal gift.’ He gave Ross a look. ‘Perhaps someone special?’

‘Very special.’ Ross said. ‘If I wanted it engraved?’

‘You could pick it up in an hour.’ the man said.

‘Perfect.’ Ross said and took out his wallet.

He was in a considerably better mood when he went back to find his mother and Elizabeth and escort them to lunch. Then, afterwards while they were chatting and looking at yet more shops he ran back down to the shop and got Jim’s present.

They caught a taxi back to the house and Ross zoned out until they got there, the compass a heavy weight in his pocket. When they went inside they found Heather talking to a grey-haired woman, tall and ramrod straight in spite of her age. Her handsome face was the spitting image of Ross’ father and indeed himself. He smiled broadly when he saw her and walked into her open arms for a hug that had a surprising amount of strength in it.

‘Ross, my boy.’ she boomed. ‘You look remarkably well for someone who got blown up.’

‘Thank you, Maggie.’ Ross said, ignoring his mother’s annoyed face. She hated him calling his great aunt by her first name, but Maggie insisted on it. She ran a speculative finger along the scar on his face.

‘I like it.’ She declared. ‘It makes you look distinguished and a little dangerous. Always a good combination.’

‘Oh, don’t encourage him, Maggie.’ Liv said. ‘And you’ll spoil his surprise.’

‘What surprise?’ Ross asked, suspicious.

‘Your father and I were going to offer to pay to have that fixed for you.’ Liv said. ‘It’s very disfiguring and you had such a handsome face.’

‘It’s still a handsome face, Olivia.’ Maggie said, her voice stony. ‘And there’s absolutely no need for it to be fixed.’ She took Ross’ arm. ‘Now escort an old lady into the drawing room and tell me what you’ve been up to.’

**********

Dinner was less tortured. Maggie pretty much monopolised him, but Ross was torn as he realised that his mother’s face was getting stormier and stormier and that Elizabeth was looking more and more dejected. So he made an effort, talking to her and discussing her job as a window dresser for Selfridges.

‘It’s awfully challenging.’ she said, and Ross put on his polite face and stared at the woman who’d been his first love and realised there was no chemistry between them at all and that there probably had never been. But it had been a good eight years since he’d seen her last when she’d unceremoniously dumped him and he’d gone off to the army and fallen head over heels for the first man to give him the time of day.

He noticed that Liv was looking a lot happier so he smiled and nodded in all the right places and even flirted a little and soon Elizabeth was smiling brightly at him. But after dinner, Maggie cornered him.

‘You shouldn’t let her do that to you.’ she said and he sighed.

‘I know.’ he said. ‘But it’s not Elizabeth’s fault that she got dragged into this. Besides, I doubt she is reading too much into a five day visit.

Ross was very wrong on that front.

It was only much later, when they had all gone to bed that he realised how much. He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and humming to himself, picturing just what Jim’s face would look like when he gave him his Christmas present. Then he heard a soft noise, but he paid it no attention. Done, he spat and rinsed and then dried his face off with the hand towel and walked back into his room.

Elizabeth was lying on his bed. And she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

‘Fuck.’ Ross said on instinct and dropped the glass of water he was holding. It hit the carpet and thankfully bounced. Elizabeth saw his horrified expression and her own face was clouded with confusion.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Um…’ Ross looked around frantically for something to give her to cover herself, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and waving it at her until she took it and put it on. He kept his eyes averted until she was covered. ‘Just what did my mother tell you?’

‘She said that you were desperate to see me, that you’d missed me and wanted to try again.’ Elizabeth said, her face a picture of embarrassment. ‘She told me that you’d lost your confidence after getting injured and that I’d probably have to make the first move so that’s what I’m doing. And at dinner you seemed very interested all of a sudden so I thought you’d gotten over it. Ross?’ She frowned at him. ‘What’s going on?’

‘She may have left out one very pertinent fact.’ Ross said. ‘I’m in a relationship with someone. I have been for a year and a half now.’

‘Oh God.’ Elizabeth’s face fell. ‘Oh no.’

‘It’s quite all right.’ Ross said, trying not to make her feel any worse. ‘You weren’t to know. And at dinner I was just being nice.’

‘Oh my God.’ Elizabeth repeated. ‘I am so sorry.’

‘No need to apologise.’ Ross said. ‘I am awfully flattered.’ That was the wrong thing to say.

‘So you bloody should be.’ Elizabeth retorted. ‘I’m a bloody catch thank you very much. I bet your girlfriend is some grenade launching thingy holding superwoman is she?’

‘Not exactly.’ Ross admitted. He went to his bedside table and picked up his phone, going to his gallery and bringing up a picture of Jim. Then he handed it to her. Elizabeth started at it, then looked at him.

‘Is this…’ she let the question hang.

‘It is.’ Ross said.

‘So not so much a girlfriend…’ she asked.

‘As a boyfriend? No.’ Ross said. Elizabeth sat down on the bed.

‘Well that explains a few things.’ she said. ‘I always thought there was something off with us.’

‘Oh, thank God.’ Ross said, feeling utterly relieved. ‘I thought it was always just me.’

‘No.’ she said, and now she was smiling a little. ‘It was only after I went to uni and slept with someone else that I realised how awful sex with you actually was. No offense.’

‘None taken, and the same thing happened with me when I went to the army.’ Ross said. ‘But as you can imagine they are not very happy about it.’ He didn’t need to explain who they were. Elizabeth’s face clouded over.

‘Hang on a minute.’ She said. ‘Do your parents know about…’ she looked at the phone.

‘Jim.’ Ross finished for her. ‘Yes they do, although they have never actually met him.’ He came to sit down next to her.

‘He’s hot.’ she said. ‘Why is it always the hot ones?’ Ross laughed and she laughed with him.

‘I am sorry you got dragged into my parents’ gay intervention.’ he said and Elizabeth put her hand on his arm.

‘It’s fine. I can’t say I’m not sorry because I am, but honestly everything now makes sense. I just can’t believe they pulled this.’ she said. ‘Although you’ll understand if I don’t want to hang around for the next four days. That would be beyond awkward.’

‘Absolutely.’ Ross said.

***********

Elizabeth left the next morning. Predictably Liv was furious.

‘You are a selfish bloody idiot.’ she shouted at Ross over breakfast. ‘How could you? You do realise that she was your best chance of finding someone, especially with the way you look now.’ Ross sat and took the vitriol until he felt like his head was going to explode. Then he started shouting back and the two of them took each other to pieces with words and anger until he got up from the table and went outside.

He took out his phone and dialled Jim. There was no answer and then the inevitable voicemail. Ross bit his lip and then did the next best thing. This time the phone was answered.

‘Hi Rose.’ Ross said. He didn’t even try to hide how upset he was.

‘Oh, petal.’ Her soothing voice was like balm on his shattered nerves. ‘What can I do?’

‘Just ask him to call me when he gets there, please.’ Ross all but whispered. ‘I need him.’

‘Consider it done.’ Rose said.

‘Thank you.’ he said then said goodbye and hung up. He stood breathing in the cold air until his lungs burned and his face was starting to go numb. Then he turned and went back inside.

***********

Rose didn’t waste any time. She dialled a number and waited for the answer then gave an extension.

‘Good morning.’ She said pleasantly. ‘This is Rose Hawkins. Could I please go through to Captain Sellar’s direct number.’ She waited for an answer. ‘Hello, Mark. No I’m fine, how are you? Good. Are you and Collette still coming to see me on the ninth? Wonderful. Yes, it has been a while. Now look, I know Jim’s on watch and I can’t call him there, but could you possibly do me a huge favour and tell him he needs to go to Cornwall this afternoon. Yes, it is. Tell him not to worry about me, he just needs to get there. Thank you so very much. Of course, we’ll chat on Christmas. Bye bye, love.’ She hung up and went back out into the pub, shaking her head to herself.

************

Ross spent the rest of the afternoon hiding. He went around the gardens, retracing pathways and rediscovering hiding places he remembered from his childhood. He was dreading the evening, various aunts and uncles and cousins descending on the manor fir the traditional Christmas eve party his parents threw every year. The worst part was that he hadn’t been able to get hold of Jim all afternoon, and while he wasn’t prone to worry he had expected Jim to have arrived at his mother’s by now.

He was walking back up from the lower part of the gardens, the damp grass muddying the hem of his chinos and his hands sunk deep in the pockets of his pea coat, when he saw something moving up the drive just ahead of him. Ross frowned and tried to catch sight of it as it moved, and a flash of chrome caught his eye. His heart gave a little jump and he started walking quickly in the direction of the house. When he got to the front area of the house he saw a black bike next to his Land Rover and when he got closer he saw a compact figure in jeans and black leather biking jacket at the front door, the distinctive white stripes across the arms and chest so very familiar.

Ross stopped and watched as the door opened and then the figure went inside. Spurred into action by this, Ross broke into a run and got to the front door few minutes later, gasping for air, still not as fit as he had been. The front door was open and he went in to find his mother and Heather and Jim all standing in the front hall, looking like they were in the middle of a confrontation. All three turned to look at him. Ross couldn’t speak, trying to catch his breath. Fortunately Jim had no such problems. He gave Ross a brilliant dimpled smile.

‘Hey, gorgeous.’ he said, and Ross immediately knew he had stumbled onto something that didn’t just look like a conflict. Jim didn't use pet names unless he was making a statement or a claim. ‘I was just trying to explain to these lovely ladies who I am.’ There was a little bite to the word ladies and Ross immediately scrutinised Jim for signs. And they were there in abundance, from the too bright smile to the tightening around Jim’s blue-green eyes which had darkened to an almost stormy blue. There was no doubt about it, Jim was severely pissed off.

Nothing for it then.

‘Mother. Heather.’ he said. ‘This is Lieutenant James Hawkins of Her Majesty’s Navy. He’s also my boyfriend.’

*********

Liv wasn’t taking it lying down. She dispatched Heather to show Jim ‘to the GUEST room, please.’ and then practically dragged Ross into the kitchen.

‘What is he doing here?’ she demanded.

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ Ross replied. It was the truth. Liv’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

‘Your father is going to be furious.’ she hissed.

‘My father is not even here, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ Ross hissed back. ‘In the two days I’ve been here, he’s managed to be absent for both of them. I very much doubt he’ll even realise that Jim is here.’

Liv looked appalled at what he’d just said.

‘It’s not your father’s fault that he has to work so hard.’ She said. ‘If you’d shown one iota of interest in the business instead of running off the bloody army…’

‘Oh Jesus, here we fucking go.’ Ross said and she went white with anger. ‘It always comes back to this, your bloody need to control every aspect of my life. I went to the school you wanted me to go to. I went to the university you wanted me to go to. You practically threw Elizabeth at me and I went out with her to please you, and then when she dumped me you told me it was my bloody fault.’

‘And then you acted like an idiot and ran off and enlisted without consulting either of us.’ Liv’s voice could have cut stone. ‘And now you’re doing it again.’

‘No, actually I’m not.’ Ross said. ‘You want to make this about you, but it’s really not. I have always been like this. I denied it for a very long time and it messed me up in a lot of ways, but I am happy with who I am now and I’m happy with Jim. You just have to accept that.’

‘I will do no such thing, and when it blows up in your face and you are left old and alone with no-one to care for you because you haven’t had the foresight to have children, then you will realise that I’m right.’ Liv said, her voice raised and edging towards slightly hysterical.

‘I don’t need children.’ Ross shouted and she shrank back as if he’d hit her. ‘Maggie has never married and has no children and she’s the last person you’d describe as lonely or incapable. What you’re really trying to say is that you want grandchildren and me being gay is never going to give you that.’

‘You are not…’ Liv couldn’t even bring herself to say the word. ‘You’re confused.’

‘Then I’ve been confused a very long time.’ Ross said. ‘Christ, Mum. Why is this so hard for you to understand? I can get that you’re never going to accept it, but at least understand what I am saying to you.’

‘No.’ Ross was sure that if she could Liv would have put her fingers in her ears to drown him out. ‘And under no circumstances are you going to say anything tonight. He can stay and join us, but there will be no mention of any of this. We’ll just say that he is a friend of yours.’

‘A friend?’ Ross was on the verge of laughing at the surreal nature of the conversation he was having. ‘Sure, why not? He’s a friend. A friend who also happens to be the man I’m in love with and have sex with and, God willing, the man I’m going to hopefully marry one day if he doesn’t get so bloody put off by the fact that my family are a massive bunch of homophobes.’

Liv gasped, and her hand came out as quick as cat’s paw and hit him across the face. It wasn’t a hard blow and his head barely moved from it, but it took him by surprise. He looked back at her and he could see the shock in her face. But she quickly recovered and her expression fell back into the immaculate mask she always wore.

‘You will never say those words in this house again.’ she said. ‘Ever.’ And then she gathered herself and stalked out the kitchen, leaving Ross with a stinging cheek and the sudden urge to beat his head against the wall.

He went upstairs and along the passageway until he found Jim. Heather had put him in the bedroom furthest from his, he noted with a sardonic smile. It was in stark contrast to the fact that Elizabeth had been put next door.

Jim was at the bed unpacking the small tog bag he usually brought on weekend trips to Ross. He leaned in the doorway and watched him. Jim looked up once, and snorted.

‘So much for welcomes.’ he said. Your mother is quite something. I think if she could have physically picked me up and thrown me out the front door, she would have.’

‘You’re staying.’ Ross said. ‘It’s something.’

‘Yeah, it’s something.’ Jim straightened up, blue-green eyes flashing angrily. ‘And let me guess, we have to pull the ‘we’re just good friends’ routine tonight, right?

‘It’s just for tonight. It’ll make things easier.’ Ross said unhappily.

‘It’ll make things a lie.’ Jim said sharply. He stopped what he was doing, hands on hips and head down. ‘I’ve been here before, Ross. It’s not a place I like.’

‘I know.’ Ross said. He stayed at the door, not wanting to go in but also desperate to go over to Jim, kiss him and hold him and have him tell him everything was going to be all right. It must have showed on his face because Jim sighed, then came around the bed to him. He pulled Ross inside the room and closed the door then he reached up, hand on Ross’ face. He leaned up, kissing Ross on the mouth.

‘Fuck it, I can play straight for one night.’ he said when he moved away. ‘Anything for you.’

‘I appreciate it.’ Ross said. He rested his forehead against Jim’s. ‘I know it’s awful, but my family are pretty much stuck in the stone-age. Be thankful you weren’t here yesterday.’

‘Why, what happened?’ Jim pulled back from him, a frown on his face, and Ross kicked himself mentally for saying anything.

‘They invited Elizabeth.’ he said and Jim’s eyebrows went up.

‘Excuse me?’ he asked. ‘It sounded like you just told me your parents invited your ex-girlfriend for Christmas.’

‘They did.’ Ross said. ‘It was kind of an intervention.’ He tried to keep his voice light, make a joke of it. ‘They told her I wanted to get back together with her and I walked out of my bathroom last night to find her naked on my bed.’ He chanced a look at Jim’s face and realised that he was furious. ‘It’s fine, I explained the situation and we had a laugh about it. She said she always knew something was off with us.’ He could hear the panicky note in his own voice, as Jim went back around the bed and started unpacking with a vengeance. ‘It’s not like it would have worked.’

‘That’s not the point.’ Jim said, his voice quiet and short. ‘It’s the thought that they effectively tried to break us up and you’re taking it like it’s no big deal.’

‘I’m not.’ Ross protested. ‘And they could never break us up. Jesus, I’m not some teenager who’s going to drop you just because my parents tell me to.’

‘No, you’re a grown man who’s just asked his boyfriend to play straight so his family doesn’t find out he likes it up the arse.’ Jim snapped. ‘Sorry, if I’m not really seeing the fucking distinction right now.’ He refused to look at Ross, and Ross could see that he wasn’t going to get anywhere until Jim had calmed down.

‘I’m sorry.’ he said, and went to the door.

‘I know, Ross.’ Jim said, still not looking at him. Ross waited for a moment, wanting to say anything he could to fix what had just happened. But he couldn’t find the words and so he left Jim to it.

**********

The family started to arrive at six, and Ross was downstairs on time, dressed neatly in the regulation Poldark uniform – pressed chinos, button down and v-neck jumper. His dark hair was tamed into submission and he had both hands shoved in his pockets as he came into the drawing room. Jon was already there, sitting in his armchair with his legs crossed and a crystal tumbler at his elbow. He was dressed exactly the same way as Ross, except his jumper was forest green and not navy blue. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at Ross as he came in.

‘You had your mother in a right tizz today.’ he said.

‘Well, if my mother didn’t treat my partner like a leper, then we wouldn’t have a problem.’ Ross replied.

‘You know her feelings on the subject.’ Jon said.

‘And your feelings?’ Ross asked. His father shrugged.

‘Who you spend with your time with has never been any particular concern of mine, Ross.’ he said. ‘But I would ask you to respect your mother’s wishes and not cause any undue turbulence while you are here.’

‘I’m starting to think it would have been a better idea not to come at all.’ Ross said.

‘Maybe, it would have.’ Jon said. ‘Especially seeing as you decided to spring your partner on us without so much as consulting us beforehand.’

‘You mean like Mum inviting Elizabeth here in a desperate attempt to un-gay me?’ Ross bridled, and his father’s eyes glittered dangerously.

‘I’d watch my tone if I were you.’ he said. ‘This is still our house and if she wishes for you to behave a certain way while you are here, then you will abide by that.’

Ross opened his mouth to protest and was interrupted by Maggie coming in, moving like a ship in sail. He wondered just how much of the conversation she had heard.

‘So, I hear we have an unexpected visitor.’ she said, and Ross noticed that her eyes were twinkling. ‘Oliva’s nose is right out of joint.’

‘Well, you can thank Ross for that.’ Jon said. ‘He has apparently decided it’s a good idea to poke the hornet’s nest.’ Maggie turned to Ross.

‘Your mother says he’s a good friend of yours.’ She gave him a smile that told him she wasn’t fooled in the slightest. ‘That’s what they used to call it in my day. I would have thought times had moved on.’

‘Apparently not in this house.’ Ross said, glowering at his father, who studiously ignored him. ‘He’s more than just a good friend, Maggie, but I’m not allowed to mention that.’

‘Oh, bollocks.’ she snorted, and then turned to Jon. ‘You aren’t seriously telling Ross that he can’t tell people that the charming young man upstairs is attached to him. I bloody would.’

‘You’ve met him then?’ Ross couldn’t supress a smile.

‘I made a point of it. He is quite a catch, I must say. But then I always did have an eye for a sailor.’ She winked at him, and Ross instantly felt better.

‘A sailor?’ Jon asked.

‘Yes, he’s in the Royal Navy.’ Ross said. ‘But you probably don't remember that part. Or the fact that he’s incredibly clever and funny and amazing.’

‘Oh God.’ Jon said. ‘You sound like a teenage girl.’

‘Oh shut up, Jonathan.’ Maggie said. ‘You may think this family is a bunch of troglodytes, but I assure you no one is going to be in the least bit offended by the fact that your son invited his boyfriend for Christmas.’

‘I didn’t technically invite him, he kind of showed up.’ Ross said.

‘Well, he wouldn’t have had to if your parents had had the civility to invite him themselves.’ Maggie said and his father studied the ceiling. He knew better than to take on his aunt. ‘Oh, speak of the devil…’

‘And he shall appear.’ Jim finished the words for her as he came into the drawing room. He was in jeans and a red plaid shirt over his habitual white t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow to show his tanned forearms and the chunky steel divers watch he wore on his left wrist along with two rope bracelets, that Preston and Halford had given him years ago when they were naval cadets together. Ross caught his breath. It was the one look of Jim’s he was truly powerless to resist, and Jim knew it. He would have only dressed like this if he wanted to get Ross going. ‘Are you calling me the Devil, Maggie?’

‘If the shoe fits, my dear.’ Maggie said. ‘I take it you’ve yet to meet Ross’ father. Jonathan, this is Jim Hawkins. He’s the man you son is seeing.’ She glared at Jon until he got up and walked over, hand extended. Ross watched as Jim took it, and then did an internal whoop when he saw his father wince minutely at the crushing grip. Jim had a handshake like a vice.

‘A pleasure, sir.’ he said, and Ross marvelled at how he was able to make it sound almost like an insult. Jim had a very subtle brand of insubordination which Ross had seen first-hand on the now infamous Warleggan occasion.

‘Likewise.’ His father said, clearly not wanting to lose face. He took his hand back and then tugged down the bottom of your jumper. ‘I think I’ll check on your mother.’ he said to Ross. ‘Please, excuse me.’ He left the drawing room. Maggie was smiling broadly. She patted the sofa next to her and Jim obediently went to sit.

‘Jon doesn’t know quite what to make of you.’ she said to him. ‘I don’t know what he was expecting, but you clearly are not it.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.’ Jim said looking directly at Ross.

‘Trust me.’ Ross replied. ‘It’s a bloody good thing.’

***********

Dinner was interesting. Jim had been somewhat surprised to find that most of the Poldark clan were women. Not only that but they were strong willed, bossy chatty women who descended on him and dragged him into conversation. They were worse thanks Ross’ squad.

He was now at the table stuck between Maggie and a cousin of Ross’ called Verity, who was a round faced young woman with brown hair and extremely intelligent dark eyes. All the Poldarks were dark eyed and it was like being in a flock of sparrows.

‘So what exactly do you do?’ she asked him. The rest of the table seemed to stop mid conversation to listen.

‘Would it be too simplistic to say I blow things up?’ Jim asked, smiling at her. He had decided he liked Verity a lot.

‘Yes.’ she said. ‘I get that part but what does it entail?’

‘Basically if the Dragon is under attack then I would co-ordinate our air defence system. That means I decide when and how to launch the PAAMS.’

‘So you’re really in charge then?’ Verity asked. ‘Of the weapons system?’

‘Yeah, that’s pretty much it.’ Jim said.

‘It sounds very exciting.’ Maggie said. ‘When I was a WAVE we weren’t let anywhere near the guns.’

‘It’s very different now.’ Jim said to her. ‘One of my best friends is a Weapons Engineer, and no-one would dream of questioning her knowledge.’

‘What would happen if they did?’ Verity asked.

‘Billie would probably kick them in the balls.’ Jim said amiably. Ross, who’d been listening intently to the exchange, choked on his wine at the word ‘balls’. ‘She’s done it before.’ He threw Ross a gorgeous devil-may-care-smile across the table, dimples on full power. Ross cleared his throat and glared back at him.

‘She sounds like my kind of girl.’ Verity said. ‘I’d like to meet her.’

‘Maybe Ross can bring you down to Portsmouth.’ Jim said. ‘We deploy on the twentieth but you could come before then and get a tour of the Dragon.’

‘Could I really?’ Verity asked, ‘Would that really be possible.’

‘Of course it would.’ Jim said. ‘Your cousin is sleeping with one of her Senior Officers.’ That little statement got a general turn of heads in Ross’ direction. Ross wanted to fall through the floor. At the head of the table, Liv was shooting daggers at him.

‘Now that is news.’ Verity said, looking at Ross with frank curiosity on her face. ‘Who is it?’ Jim looked at Ross, his eyes dancing.

‘I couldn’t possibly say.’ he said and Ross wished the damn table wasn’t so big. Then he could have kicked him in the shin.

‘Now, Verity my dear girl, don’t be a horse’s arse.’ Maggie said. ‘It’s Ross.’ This time it was Jon who choked on his wine. Verity frowned, as did the rest of the table.

‘You’re gay?’ she asked him. Ross was horrified. He looked helplessly at Jim, who had one hand in front of his mouth, clearly to suppress his smile.

‘I’m sorry.’ he managed to get out. ‘But I didn’t say a thing.’

‘No, you didn’t. I did.’ Maggie declared.

‘Oh my God.’ Verity laughed. She turned to Jim. ‘So you and Ross are...’ She looked at Ross, who had an epiphany that thing’s really couldn’t get any worse, so he jumped straight in.

‘Yes.’ he said, and heard Olivia’s outraged gasp from her end of the table. ‘We’re seeing each other.’ He looked at Jim, who now had one elbow on the table, chewing on his thumb nail and trying desperately not to laugh out loud. ‘We’ve been together for a year and a half, and yes we love each other, and yes we have sex. A lot.’ These words were subtly directed down the table. Verity looked at her mother Rebecca, who was two seats down from Ross.

‘You owe me fifty quid.’ she said triumphantly.

**********

‘Seriously though, Vee. How the fuck did you know?’ Ross asked as he stretched up and retrieved a bottle from the top of the rack. He’d been dispatched to get more wine in the interests of his parents’ sanity and Verity had gone with to help.

‘Don’t be thick, Ross.’ she said, taking it from him and examining the label. ‘We grew up together. I’ve known you were gay for ages. It’s just nobody would believe me.’ She smiled beatifically at him. ‘Although they’ll be laughing out the other sides of their faces tonight. Christ, did you see your parents’ faces? That was brilliant, and quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had at one of these things.’

‘Even more than when you got into the sherry and threw up in the Christmas tree?’ Ross asked, reaching for the next bottle.

‘Even more than that.’ Verity said. ‘I have to say that I am rather jealous. You have landed a very good looking and very nice boyfriend.’

‘I know.’ Ross smiled. ‘I have no idea how I got so lucky.’

‘Well if he ever gets tired of you, I would be happy to try and convert him.’ Verity grinned. When Ross glared at her she giggled. ‘Maggie told me about Olivia’s little stunt.’

‘What she didn’t tell you was that Liz thought it would be a good idea to try and seduce my by lying naked on my bed and scaring the crap out of me when I came out the bathroom.’ Ross grumbled. He picked up the two bottles he was carrying and they walked out of the cellar and headed upstairs.

‘I am almost tempted to invite myself to stay over just so I can see what tomorrow morning brings and you have to take him to church with us.’ Verity said.

‘He’s not staying.’ Ross said. ‘He isn’t even supposed to be here now. He’s supposed to be at a Christmas party at his mum’s pub. He came because of me.’

‘Oh, that’s just adorable.’ Verity said. They came up from the rooms below the manor and walked back along to the drawing room. As they passed the floor to ceiling terrace windows, Ross caught sight of Jim out on the terrace, hand in pocket and the other holding his mobile to his ear. He was visibly shivering in the cold air. Verity saw what Ross was looking at.

‘Here, give me those.’ she said taking the bottles from him. ‘Go and cuddle your freezing boyfriend.' Ross gave her a grateful smile. Then he went to the terrace door and opened it. The cold air was enough to make his teeth start chattering, but Jim was faring far better, his shivering the only indication that he felt cold.

‘Yeah, first thing tomorrow.’ he said, looking up as Ross approached. ‘I’ll tell him. Don’t get too drunk or you’ll end up falling off the bar like last year. I love you too, Mom. Bye.’ He hung up and turned to Ross. ‘Rose says hello and give them hell.’

‘Thanks.’ Ross said. He stopped a couple of feet from Jim. ‘I’m sorry my family are all buttoned-up lunatics.’

‘I actually think I like them.’ Jim said coming forward. ‘Your parents could use a little loosening up, though.’ He got near enough to Ross to reach out, hands resting lightly on Ross’ waist. ‘I’m very proud of you for what you did in there.’

‘I should have done it right at the beginning. I should have brought you here, instead of having you come rescue me from myself as usual.’ Ross said.

‘Maybe I like rescuing you.’ Jim said, then moved in close and kissed him. Ross froze and then threw caution to the wind and kissed him back.

It was heading towards twelve when the assembled family members climbed into assorted forms of transport and went home. Verity was last, squeezing the life out of Ross and Jim before she climbed into her taxi.

‘Soon!’ she shouted out the window as the driver pulled away.

‘That woman is crazy.’ Ross said and Jim laughed.

‘I love her.’ He said. ‘Her and Maggie.’ He looked at Ross. ‘I’m not really tired. You want to give me the grand tour?’

‘Of the family pile?’ Ross frowned.

‘No. Out here.’ Jim reached for his hand, taking it and smiling at him. ‘It’s a beautiful night.’

‘It’s bloody freezing.’ Ross protested, but he was unable to resist, just as Jim knew he would be.

They walked along the drive, and down to the ornamental lake, hand in hand.

‘So what happens to this when your parents die?’ Jim asked.

‘It’s mine.’ Ross said. ‘Unless I don’t want it. Then it would go to Verity, probably.’

‘And do you want it?’ Jim asked. Ross sighed.

‘I used to think I did.’ he said. ‘But now every time I come back, I realise how far away from this my life has become.’ He looked at Jim. ‘Would you want this?

‘Fuck, no. I have no interest in playing lady of the manor with you, thank you very much.’ Jim replied.

When they got back, the drawing room was deserted, the fire dying down to embers. The Christmas tree lights were still on, however and Ross went in and turned them off. When he came back out, Jim bundled him up against the wall and kissed him.

‘Merry Christmas, Captain Poldark.’ he said when he let Ross go. Ross looked over his shoulder at the grandfather clock behind them.

‘Bugger.’ he said, then brightened. ‘That means I can give you your present now.’

‘You bought me a present?’ Jim asked. ‘I thought your family didn’t do presents.’

‘Just because they don’t doesn’t mean I can’t.’ Ross said. It had come up the previous Christmas when Jim had bought him something and he’d been caught short because it hadn’t even occurred to him to do that. He took Jim’s hand and pulled him up the stairs after him.

They got upstairs and Jim let his hand go.

‘Hang on.’ he said. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ He started down the passage to the guest room he was in and Ross watched, momentarily confused.

‘Where are you going?’ he hissed, not wanting to wake anyone up.

‘I also bought you a present.’ Jim hissed back, smiling at him. ‘Now get your arse in your room and wait for me.’

Ross did as instructed and went into his room. He left the main light off, switching on the lamp next to his bed and then opened the bedside table drawer and took out the box, neatly wrapped in plain blue paper. He bent down and undid his laces, getting rid of shoes and socks as he always did when he was at home (one too many lectures from his mother about shoes on the bed) and waited. He felt strangely exhilarated at the thought of what Jim would do when he opened his present, and also horribly excited at the prospect of his own. Most of his friends had taken Christmas presents for granted, but his parents had never been ones for gifts an he’d rather have nothing than an impersonal Selfridges voucher showing up in an envelope every year.

The door opened quietly and Jim came in, a large grey plastic bundle under one arm.

‘It’s not wrapped.’ he said. ‘I was going to do that before I saw you at New Year.’

‘I don’t care.’ Ross said, moving to make space for him on the three-quarter bed. ‘Shoes.’ he said as Jim approached.

‘Christ.’ Jim laughed but he sat down and kicked them off then took off his socks, balling them and shoving them in one shoe as he always did. Then he sat back on the bed, back against the wall and handed the package to Ross. ‘You first.’

Ross ripped the grey plastic of the parcel, chucking it on the floor and staring at the jacket in his hands. It was a partner of the one Jim wore on his bike, the black leather thick and heavy but with red striping instead of white.

‘Holy shit.’ he said. ‘It’s fucking gorgeous.’

‘I figured red because you’re army.’ Jim was smiling brilliantly at the pleased look on Ross’ face. ‘I thought you’d like that.’

‘I love it.’ Ross said, leaning over and kissing him. ‘Thank you.’ He laid the jacket over his lap to admire it and then handed his present to Jim. ‘Mine’s kind of small in comparison.’

‘What is it about you army blokes and your obsession with size.’ Jim said taking it and smiling.

‘So says the man with big fucking missiles at his disposal.’ Ross said. He looked pointedly at the box in Jim’s hands. ‘Are you going to open that or not?'

‘Patience, Captain.’ Jim said. He started unwrapping, driving Ross mad with anticipation. Jim unwrapped methodically and neatly, just like he did everything else. He folded the paper into a square and then opened the box, his look of surprised delight everything Ross had hoped for.

‘Oh.’ he said, and the single word was so full of wonder that Ross felt like his heart was going to burst. ‘Jesus, this is beautiful.’

‘Open it.’ Ross was almost beside himself. Jim did, and saw the line of text inside, with the date underneath it. He looked up at Ross, his eyes almost indigo in the dim lamplight. ‘It’s the date we met.’

‘I know.’ Jim took a deep breath. ‘This is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever given me.’ He leaned over and the kiss he gave Ross was soft and full of love. ‘And you thought you’d suck at present buying.’

‘I’m kind of hoping it will always bring you back home to me.’ Ross said and Jim huffed a small laugh.

‘I don’t need a compass to find my way back to you Ross.’ he said. ‘All I need to do is follow my heart.’ He put it back in the box and stretched over Ross to put it on the bedside table. Then he took the jacket from Ross’ lap and laid it carefully on the floor next to the bed. Ross watched this, a questioning look on his face but then it changed as Jim climbed into his lap, put his arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

‘I love you so much.’ he breathed when their mouths parted. ‘There is nowhere in the world I would want to be more than with you.’

‘I love you too.’ Ross replied, his heart thumping. ‘Even though I would never stop you from going.’

‘I know that.’ Jim’s voice was low. He bumped Ross’ nose with his. ‘But you are my home now.’ He kissed him again, and Ross put his arms around him and held on tightly. The kisses went on, changing slowly from gentle to heated until Ross pulled back. Jim, however, had other ideas and he started kissing down the side of Ross' neck, making him shiver.

‘What are you doing?’ he murmured and felt Jim smile against his skin.

‘Did you ever fuck Elizabeth in this bed?’ he asked, then dragged his tongue over Ross’ pulse. Ross gasped.

‘No.’ he managed to say. ‘Never.’

‘In this house?’ Jim asked, and bit lightly at his collar bone, where it was just exposed by his shirt.

‘No.’ Ross said, but it turned into a low moan when Jim ground down against him and he started to get hard.

‘So I’ll be the first.’ Jim licked along the line of his throat and Ross bit his lip to hold in the noise he was desperate to make. ‘Would you like that? For me to fuck you in this bed, to make you moan so loudly the whole house knows what I do to you in the dark?’ He came back to Ross’ mouth, tongue tracing Ross’ lower lip before dipping into his mouth. ‘Or would we have to keep quiet so your parents don’t hear? Leave them wondering exactly what we’ve done in this bed?’ He was rocking in Ross’ lap and Ross could feel that he was also hard. His hands moved from Jim’s back to his wrists, pulling them away from him regretfully.

‘We can’t.’ he breathed. ‘We mustn’t.’ Jim pulled back and looked at him, pupils dilated, and Ross tightened his grip on Jim’s wrists as he fought to get himself under control.

‘I don’t believe you.’ he whispered. ‘I can feel how hard you are, how much you want me.’ He leaned in, his breath ghosting over Ross’ mouth. ‘I want you too.’ He twisted his wrists free from Ross' hands and moved down to his tucked in shirt, pulling at it until the hem was free and he could slip his hands underneath, stroking along the ribs and then going to Ross’ belt buckle. And all the time he kept on giving Ross those teasing light kisses, little flicks of tongue that drove Ross crazy. Eventually Ross caved, his need for Jim just too strong to control. He lifted his arms and Jim pulled the shirt and jumper over his head, chucking it, and then his hands were running over Ross’ chest, finger tracing nipples as they moved down to the unbuttoned chinos and Ross shifted up so Jim could push them down just as far as needed, his hand taking Ross’ cock and stroking just hard enough.

How do you want it?’ he breathed into Ross’ mouth. ‘Me in you, or you in me?’

‘Ride me.’ Ross moaned, ‘God, I want to be in you.’ He whined as Jim’s thumb ran over the head of his cock and Jim lifted it to his mouth, sucking the pre-come off of it. Ross watched him, panting.

‘This first, I think.’ Jim said, moving back along Ross’ thighs then bending forward and Ross bowed up from the pile of pillows at his back as he felt the first touch of Jim’s tongue.

‘Oh God.’ he moaned and Jim took him all the way in until Ross was enveloped in his warm wet mouth. He moved slowly, letting his arms take his weight either side of Ross’ hips and Ross reached for his head, guiding him. ‘Fuck, that’s so good.’ Jim hummed around him, and Ross let his head fall back, eyes closed as he focused on nothing but the slide in and out of Jim’s mouth, the feel of his tongue tracing every line and vein until his body was shaking. Then Jim pulled off and Ross had to stop himself whining in disappointment.

‘Easy, baby.’ he said, moving back up and kissing Ross’ open mouth. ‘We have all night. Unless you make too much noise that is, and your parents come crashing through that door to make sure I’m not defiling you.’

‘Too fucking late.’ Ross said, fighting to control his breathing. ‘Now shut the fuck up and get on my cock.’

‘You are very lippy tonight.’ Jim was grinning at him. ‘Be careful what you ask for. I’m in the mood to make you scream.’ He got off Ross and reached for the buttons of his plaid shirt, undoing them slowly until it hung open. Ross watched, eyes fixed on him and every move he made, catching his breath as Jim stripped it off and then reached back to pull off his t-shirt. His skin almost glowed in the low light. He stood waiting then dropped the t-shirt to the floor.

‘Maybe I should stop here.’ he said. ‘Make you jerk off instead.’ He unbuckled his belt, hands moving teasingly slow, then undid his jeans. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think if you don’t get over here and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’m taking my Christmas present back.’ Ross said, and Jim chuckled low in his chest.

‘You got anything?’ he asked.

‘In my bag.’ Ross replied. He watched as Jim scratched around then came up with the lube and chucked it on the bed.

‘Do I even want to know why you have that?’ he asked, laughing.

‘What I do in the privacy of the bathroom when you’re not around is my business.’ Ross grumbled, wriggling out of his briefs and chinos and hurling them at Jim, who deflected them easily.

‘You could at least video it.’ he said, shedding his jeans and boxers as well, and then coming back to the bed and straddling Ross. ‘Send it to me so I can watch it when I’m away.’ He reached for the lube, flipping the top and grabbing Ross’ hand, pouring it over his fingers and then guiding his hand to where he wanted it. Ross obliged, stroking and working the lube over him before he slid one finger inside. Jim rose on his knees, hands on Ross’ shoulders and took in a deep breath, then dropped back down onto Ross’ hand. Ross pushed up into him, fingertip skating over Jim’s prostate, knowing just where to press, where to stroke lightly until Jim was keening.

‘More.’ he gritted out and Ross added a second and went a little harder, a little faster. Jim moaned, and Ross winced at the noise. He grabbed at the back of Jim’s head with his free hand and pulled him to him, kissing him quiet. Jim was not so easily put off and whined noisily into Ross’ mouth as he worked him open.

‘Can’t you keep quiet?’ Ross hissed when they separated and Jim made a soft snuffling noise as he stifled his laugh.

‘Not with your fingers inside me.’ he replied. ‘Christ you are so good at that.’ He pushed back hard. ‘More.’

‘Now who’s being lippy?’ Ross said, but he pulled them out and then pushed three back in.

‘Oh fucking hell…’ Jim linked his fingers at the back of Ross’ neck and rocked back and forth on Ross’ hand. ‘So fucking good.’

‘So fucking loud.’ Ross hissed. Jim locked eyes with him, and raised an eyebrow.

‘You want loud?’ he asked, and Ross still had enough brain cells functioning to panic ever so slightly.

‘No.’ he said. ‘I never said that.’ He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going. Jim gave him a smile that was pure evil.

‘Right, Poldark.’ He said. ‘You fucking asked for it.’ He lifted high enough for Ross’ fingers to slip out of him and then his hand was on Ross’ cock, holding him still. It was all so fast that Ross didn’t have time to even protest before he felt himself being taken in, not slowly but in one sure hard movement that drove him all the way inside Jim.

‘Oh fuck!’ he said, breath knocked out of him by how good it felt. Then Jim lifted and just slammed down on him, and Ross felt his residual composure and concern for not making too much noise fly out the window. ‘Jesus Christ, Jim…’

‘Remember the first night I rode you like this?’ Jim’s words were a series of harsh pants. ‘How hard I made you come? Well that is going to be nothing compared to this.’ He moved easily, executing a graceful rise and fall with his hands braced against Ross’ shoulders for leverage. Ross could do nothing but take it, his hands on Jim’s flanks to steady them, feeling the muscles working under his hands as Jim moved. It was fast and intense and the drive into Jim’s body blocked out everything else but the two of them, locked together.

‘Come on, baby.’ Jim breathed. ‘I want to feel you.’ He leaned back and Ross knew he’d hit the right place because he cried out and clenched so tightly around Ross that he did the same. He dug his fingers into Jim’s body, holding on tightly as Jim started to buck frantically, driving Ross deeper and deeper inside him with every movement until the stars started going off behind Ross’ eyes and he lost it, throwing his head back and shouting Jim’s name as he came. Jim crashed forward into him, hand on his own cock as he brought himself to the edge and then merrily tumbled over, his own cries as loud as Ross’ had been. Ross caught him and held him still, cum smearing both their chests.

They finally quieted, breathing starting to even out. Then Jim chuckled and Ross bit him on the shoulder in retaliation.

‘You absolute fucker.’ he muttered into Jim’s sweat damp skin. ‘There’s no way in hell they didn’t hear that.’

‘At least this way, they’ll know that we aren’t just sitting in here plaiting each other’s hair and listening to Abba.’ Jim laughed.

He didn’t bother going back to the guest room, and they spent the rest of the night crowded into Ross three quarter childhood bed, elbows and knees getting in the way of any hope of a reasonably decent night’s sleep.

When they got up on Christmas morning they stumbled into the shower together, washing dried lube and cum off each other’s bodies and giggling at how close they had to stand in Ross’ less than spacious shower.

‘This is fucking ridiculous.’ Ross said. Jim had both arms around him, trying to wash his back.

‘That’s because you shower is like a fucking sardine tin.’ he said, kissing Ross’ shoulder. He tilted his head back and smiled at Ross, blue-green eyes sparkling. ‘Have I told you that is my favourite Christmas so far because I got to wake up with you?’

‘You are going to make me never want to let you leave.’ Ross said. ‘Christ knows I don’t want you to go.’

‘You could come with me.’ Jim said. He scratched at some residual cum stuck in Ross’ chest hair.

‘I can’t.’ Ross said. ‘I’d love to and I love you, but I think I need to stay here. Maybe talk things out with them.’

‘Yeah, you probably should. Especially after last night.’ Jim said. He snickered. ‘Jesus, if your parents hated me before, they’re going to absolutely loathe me now.’

‘They don’t even know you.’ Ross said. ‘That’s what pisses me off so much. If they gave you a chance they’d probably love you as much as I do.’ He ran his fingers through Jim’s wet hair. ‘No, scratch that. Nobody in the known universe could love you as much as I do.’

‘You are such a wanker, but I love you too.’ Jim laughed, standing on his tiptoes and kissing him.

After they got out and dried off, Jim went back to his room to dress and get his things. Ross had told him he’d meet him downstairs once he was dressed to say goodbye. But now all he could do was sit on the bed and stare at the black leather jacket with the red stripes hanging on the back of the chair at his desk.

Then he made a decision.

*********

Jim came down the staircase, bag on shoulder and found Maggie in the front hall, pulling off a pair of gloves by the open front door.

‘Olivia and Jonathan are just at the car.’ she said. ‘They’re not very happy with you two for sleeping through Morning service.’ Then she gave him a wink that would have been shocking on a much younger woman. ‘And that’s not all they’re unhappy about either. That was quite the little performance you and Ross put on last night.’

‘I thought you said you were deaf?’ Jim said, smiling at her.

‘My dear child, I think you two broke several noise barriers.’ Maggie said. ‘I shall endeavour to soundproof my guest bedroom for when you come to visit, and I do so hope you will.’

‘Thank you.’ Jim said. ‘I certainly will.’ The crunch of gravel under shoes heralded the arrival of Ross’ parents. They came in from outside and Jim was very amused to see that they couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Good morning, Hawkins.’ Jon said. ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘And you, sir.’ Jim said, his naval politeness just the right side of arrogance. ‘And thank you both very much for your hospitality.’

‘Don’t mention it.’ Jon said and Jim knew that he probably meant that literally. Olivia had her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes averted. She kept silent.

‘Well.’ he said. ‘I really should get going. My mum’s expecting me.’

‘Of course. Don’t let us keep you.’ Jon said. ‘I take it you’ve already said goodbye to Ross.’

‘I’m actually just waiting for him and then I’ll be off.’ Jim said. ‘He was just getting out the shower the last time I saw him.’ He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t resist. He went to Maggie, kissing her on the cheek and she gave him a half hug. ‘Thank-you.’ he whispered so only she could hear. ‘I appreciate what you did.’ Maggie’s grip tightened a little.

‘He’s in good hands with you.’ she whispered back. ‘I can feel it.’ Then she pulled back from him and her eyes widened a little as she looked over Jim’s shoulder. ‘And it looks like he knows that too.’

Jim turned to see Ross coming down the stairs. He was in jeans and boots with a bag in one hand, the jacket Jim had given him zipped up and making his shoulders look impossibly broad. He got to the bottom of the stairs and looked at him.

‘Is that offer still open?’ he asked and Jim’s heart took flight at the easy smile on his face.

‘Always.’ he replied. Ross came across the hall.

‘I’ll be back for the Landy in a couple of days.’ he said to his parents. He gave Maggie a hug and then turned to Jim. ‘Shall we go?’

‘After you, Captain Poldark.’ Jim said, smile bringing out his dimples. He gestured for Ross to go first and he did without so much as a backwards glance at his parents. They got to the bike and Ross went into the back seat of the Land Rover and took out his helmet that Jim had got for him. He watched as Jim strapped their bags to the back then got on, putting on his helmet once he was seated, then digging his gloves out of his jacket pocket and pulling them on. Ross followed suit, then came up and climbed on behind him, putting his arms around Jim and feeling the solid weight against him.

They left, the dust kicking up behind them, and to Ross it felt like he was being freed.

 

All thanks to my wonderful beta [TaupeFox59](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59). Without her this shit would never get done.

For those who are wondering, the line of text in Jim's compass reads as follows - _You are the ocean in which I would drown._


	4. Hot Blooded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For calamity-kitten.
> 
> Jim/Ross Modern AU - In your modern!Darkhawk Jim and Ross talk about how much more likely it is that something happens to Ross. And now I would love to read what would happen if it were Jim being injured, how they’d handle that. Doesn’t have to be too serious, I just love h/c. Also, Nurse Poldark:p
> 
> There is an extreme snark warning for this. Not strictly hurt comfort in the truest sense, but then these two never do things the traditional way, do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Hot Blooded by Foreigner

Ross knew something was wrong the minute Jim got off the ship. Normally he bounded down the gangway, barrelled through the gathered family members and into Ross’ waiting arms, covering his face in kisses and then snogging the life out of him. And over two years of being together had made Ross more than tolerant of Jim’s need for PDAs, even if he still winced a little on the inside, something he’d never been able to shake. 

But today Jim trudged down the gangway behind Preston and Halford, head down and looking decidedly miserable. And then Ross knew.

Jim was sick. 

‘Oh fuck.’ he muttered to himself and a woman with a small child next to him gave him an affronted look. Ross sighed. This was going to be a very long two weeks. He watched as the girls came towards him, sympathetic looks on their faces. When they got to him, Preston pulled him into a hug.

‘Flu.’ she hissed in his ear. ‘And he’s had it for five days. I do not envy you.’ Then she pulled back and patted him on the cheek. ‘The good thing is that Jackie and I have a two week respite from his belligerence. You on the other hand better make him fucking better before he gets back on ship or we will throw him overboard mid-Atlantic.’ 

‘A-fucking-men.’ Jackie said, giving Ross her own hug. ‘He’s been fucking impossible. Sellar had to practically threaten him with insubordination if he didn’t go to sick bay.’ They both looked back at his oncoming boyfriend and decided to scatter. 

‘See you later.’ they trilled in unison and walked away as quickly as possible. Ross watched them go, and then turned back to see Jim standing in front of him.

‘Hi.’ he said. Jim muttered something that sounded like ‘Hello’ but it was very difficult to tell because he sounded like he was trying to speak through cement. Ross bit his lip to keep from smiling. If he smiled that could be construed as a lack of sympathy and that would only result in his grumpy baby becoming unbearable. So there would be no smiling, no matter how fucking adorable it was.

Because when James Robert Hawkins was sick, the world came to an end.

It was a source of continual amazement to Ross that Jim, stoic and fiercely independent, turned into the world’s biggest baby when he was sick. Not only that, but he became so incredibly grouchy that most people, even Rose, avoided him.

‘I think we need to get you home.’ he said and Jim nodded and looked as pathetic as a basket full of orphaned kittens.

*********

The drive home was punctuated by a trip to the supermarket. Ross left Jim sulking in the car and went inside. He knew what the next week or so would bring and made sure he had enough of what he needed. When he came back out, he was loaded down with tissues, vitamin C fizzy tablets, aspirin, grape juice and the new Clive Cussler novel as well as stuff for dinner. 

In the car, Jim was curled into the corner of the passenger side, his arms folded and his mouth set in a stubborn line. When Ross finished loading the bags into the back, he got in and looked at him.

‘You still with me?’ he asked and Jim sniffled in response. Ross bit back a chuckle and started the car.

**********

By the time they got back to the cottage, Ross had finally managed to get some actual words out of Jim, even if they were just to complain about the fact that he was sick and feeling quote ‘like shit’. When they got inside, Ross dropped the bags in the hallway and herded Jim upstairs. Jim grumbled but went and when they got to their bedroom, Ross ordered him into bed.

‘I’m not a fucking child.’ Jim said, although he had to repeat himself twice before Ross understood what he was saying.

‘Of course not, my love.’ Ross was unable to keep a lid on it and was now grinning at him. ‘You’re just behaving like one.’

‘Fuck you, Ross.’ Jim said, but he was obviously feeling really awful because he was even beyond the point of fighting with Ross. He got rid of his shoes and coat and crawled under the duvet, fully dressed, and curled up like a kitten. ‘Now, you’re going to stay there until I say so, understood.’ There was a grumbled reply from under the duvet that Ross took as assent. ‘I’m going back downstairs to put everything away. You want anything?’ There was another mutter, which Ross could hear from the intonation pattern was a no. He reached down, patting the lump under the duvet in the general area of Jim’s hip and left him alone for a bit. He knew better than to try and cajole him out of the mood he was in. 

Downstairs Ross picked up the shopping bags and took them into the kitchen, putting them on the table and unpacking the contents. He put the juice in the fridge, knowing that when Jim was sick he drank litres of the stuff, usually straight out of the container. Then he got started on dinner. He had planned on something big, but he knew that Jim wouldn’t really be hungry. He never was when he was like this, and it was always a sure indication that he was sick if he didn’t want to eat. Fortunately being at home meant that Ross had had plenty of time on his hands to learn how to cook at least halfway decently, French toast not included of course, and he got to work. Having Rose on the other side of a phone had also been a great help, but when he called her now it wasn’t to discuss what he was cooking. It didn’t take long for her to answer.

‘Hello duckie.’ she said. ‘I thought you two wouldn’t be seen or heard from for at least two days.’ This was be followed by an evil cackle and Ross laughed. He’d managed to become immune to Rose’s innuendos about their sex life, learning that her earthy sense of humour concealed a deep love for both of them.

‘I fucking wish.’ he said. ‘He’s in bed but sadly it’s not with me.’

‘Oh Christ.’ Rose said. ‘What’s he got?’

‘Flu.’ Ross replied. He put the phone on speaker so he could continue prepping dinner. ‘It looks like I’m going to get exactly zero action for the next two weeks.’

‘A terrible thing indeed.’ He could practically hear the smirk in Rose’s voice. There was silence for a minute. ‘Are you cooking?’

‘Thai chicken soup.’ Ross said. ‘I’m going to try and eliminate the virus through the judicious application of chillis.’ 

‘Very good idea.’ Rose said. ‘Did you buy…’

‘Grape juice?’ Ross grinned. ‘I value my life Rose. Of course I did. Although I should point out that the last time he was like this, your son actually threw a carton of it at me. Thank fuck I have good reflexes.’ 

‘Did you catch it?” Rose was giggling now. 

‘Yes, and he didn’t forgive me for three days.’ Ross finished chopping the spring onions and moved them to one side with the knife before attacking the garlic. ‘You could have fucking warned me about this when we got together, you know.’

‘Duckie, if I had told you what a sod he is when he’s sick, you would have never come back.’ Rose pointed out. ‘Although at least you’ve never had to take him for a vaccination. I remember the last time Rob took him, Jim struggled so much he ended up kicking Rob in the nose and when they came home I had one with the sulks and one who looked like he’d been in a boxing match. And that was fucking nothing compared to when he broke his arm. I swear we both wanted to have him adopted by the end of that. Not that Rob had much room to talk, mind you. Where do you think Jim got it from?’

‘He can be a bugger, though.’ Ross said. He opened the cupboard and took out the box of stock cubes, unwrapping two and crumbling them into the pot of water he’d put on the stove. ‘I’m thinking about getting a pointed stick to poke him with.’ Rose giggled again.

‘You’re terrible.’ She said. ‘So I’m guessing I won’t be seeing you this weekend then.’

‘Not unless he effects a miraculous recovery in the next four days.’ Ross replied. ‘But he’ll probably want to speak to you when he wakes up.’ 

‘All right then. I’ll call back later. Have fun.’ Rose cackled as she disconnected the call. Ross put the phone down and continued with what he was doing. 

***********

Once the soup was finished, Ross mixed up a bottle of 50/50 water and grape juice and took it upstairs, along with a mug of soup and a bag of Twirls. When he got to their room, he could hear Jim’s congested breathing and had a smidgen of concern at how clogged his chest sounded. Jim was still bundled under the duvet in pretty much the same position he’d been in when Ross had left.

‘Flu, my arse.’ he muttered as he went in. He got to the bed and sat down on the edge, then reached out and put his palm flat against Jim’s face. His skin was hot and clammy under Ross’ hand, and his blond hair was dark with sweat. He stirred at the touch of Ross’ hand and opened his eyes, and Ross noted with a further smidgen of alarm that they were cloudy and unfocused. 

‘Hey there.’ he said, pushing Jim’s hair of his face. ‘And this is definitely just the flu?’

‘Hello to you too.’ Jim said, his voice thick with sleep and sickness. ‘I think I’m dying. If I don’t make it, you can have everything.’

‘Drama queen.’ Ross said, but he frowned at the horrible rasping he could hear every time Jim took a breath. ‘Fuck Jim, you don’t sound good. Why the fuck did it take you so long to go to sick bay?’ He asked the question even though he knew the answer. In spite of Jim’s tendency to act like he was on death’s door once he acknowledged he was sick, it took an awfully long time to get there. He absolutely hated going to the doctor.

‘I didn’t think it was anything.’ Jim said, shifting and trying to sit up, He broke out into a hacking cough and Ross moved back from him. 

‘Jesus fuck.’ he said. ‘You are going to the fucking doctor. No arguments.’ He added when Jim opened his mouth to protest. ‘Now drink this.’ He held out the mug. Jim glared at him as best he could but when he saw that Ross was simply glaring back and refusing to be moved, he took the mug and sipped.

‘Thank you.’ he said.

‘You’re welcome.’ Ross said. He’d found through experience and experimentation that the best way to deal with a sick Jim was to bully him ever so slightly into complying and not allow him a chance to argue back. ‘All of it.’ He watched Jim as he drank the soup, and when he was done he took the mug back and placed the back of his hand against Jim’s forehead. ‘You are burning up. I’m going to run you a cool bath and then you’re back in bed.’ He took the mug and placed it on the bedside table, then got up and went into the bathroom. 

Ross put the plug in and then turned on the water, testing it with his hand. Jim normally liked it so hot it scorched but he was wary of putting him in a hot bath with what was clearly a spiked temperature. He did add a good sprinkle of the bath salts he had for soothing his own stiff muscles and then went back into the room. Jim was now sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ross, and gave him a half smile.

‘Guess this kind of puts paid to all our grand plans.’ he said. Ross shrugged.

‘I’m not going to fuck you when you’re this sick.’ he said. ‘Not even close.’

‘Spoil sport.’ Jim said and descended into another coughing fit. They had been driving each other crazy for the last two weeks of Jim’s deployment, exchanging emails detailing all the filthy things they were going to do to each other when they got into the same space. But Ross was serious about what he said. 

‘Come on.’ he said, holding out his hands to Jim. ‘Clothes off and into the bath. If you ask me nicely, I’ll even wash your back.’ Jim sniffled and stood up, then lifted his arms like a child and allowed Ross to pull his jumper and shirt over his head, fingers brushing against Jim’s skin which was radiating heat. Ross could smell the sweat on him and noticed that Jim’s normal oceanic smell was tainted, another sure sign he wasn’t well. He chucked the shirt on the bed and got to work on Jim’s belt, undoing it briskly and then unbuttoning his jeans. 

‘You know.’ Jim said, looking intently at Ross’ face which was a picture of concentration. ‘This is not helping if you don’t plan on following through.’ Ross lifted his head, noticing the steadily dilating pupils. 

‘Maybe I should let you do it.’ he said. Jim took a deep breath, moving closer.

‘Maybe you should just fuck me anyway.’ he said and he took Ross’ hand and placed it on his cock, which was half hard under Ross’ palm. ‘Just because I’m sick, doesn’t mean I don’t want you. It’s all I have been able to think about for the last week.’

‘No.’ Ross said firmly. ‘Bath. Now.’ He tried not to look at Jim’s pout, knowing that his resistance would crumble in the face of it. ‘Jim. Don’t make me pick you up and throw you in.’

‘Oh come on.’ Jim was grinning now. ‘Not even a hand job?’

‘Nothing until you’re better.’ Ross said, taking his hands away. ‘And now you get to undress yourself.’ He stepped back and pointed to the bathroom. ‘Go.’ Jim snickered, which was very difficult to do with a blocked nose and went into the bathroom. Ross followed, watching as he stripped off his jeans and boxers and got into the bath, lowering himself into the warm water with a sigh. Only once Jim was in did he go over, studiously avoiding looking below the water line. Even sick as a dog, Jim had an effect on his hormones that should have been criminal. He sat on the side of the bath, facing him and gave Jim a long look. 

‘I’ll call the base in the morning. You can go in and see the medic and then I think it’s going to be a week of sofa time.’ he said.

‘I can think of worse ways to spend a week with you.’ Jim said, and sank down in the water until his chin was touching the surface. ‘But if I don’t get laid before I go back on the ship, there will be hell to pay.’

‘Then you know what you have to do.’ Ross said primly and got up and stalked out the bathroom.

**********

The first night was going to be hell Ross decided. Being in the same bed was going to be bad enough so he decided to remove all temptation by actually wearing clothes to bed. Jim raised both eyebrows at him. 

‘It’s this or I sleep on the sofa.’ Ross said. ‘Your choice.’

‘Do I at least get cuddles?’ Jim asked. His mood had dipped back down again after the bath and he’d become irascible and irritable. Ross had left with him with a cocktail of vitamin C and aspirin to shock his system and the book he’d bought him, hoping that Jim would drop off before he’d finished cleaning the kitchen but he was out of luck. 

‘Fine. But your hands stay above the waist or I’m out of here.’ Ross said, getting into bed next to him. Jim coughed and grimaced at the burn in his chest. 

‘You haven’t even kissed me hello yet.’ he grumbled.

‘That’s because you’re riddled with germs.’ Ross replied. ‘And I don’t particularly feel like getting sick. I’ve got a new training group starting as soon as you go back.’ He slid up behind Jim, and wrapped one arm around him, but he was careful to make sure that Jim’s naked body didn’t get too close. He leaned in and was going to press a kiss to Jim’s cheek, but then Jim turned at the last minute and their mouths met.

Ross was about to pull away, when Jim put his hand at the back of Ross’ head, holding him. His mouth was incredibly hot, and Ross was lost. The prolonged absence and the fact that it was Jim took him over and before he knew what he was doing, he had his tongue in Jim’s mouth and his hand on Jim’s cock. 

Jim broke away, his breathing coming short and hard. The rasping was still there though and Ross made a concerned noise. Jim frowned and wriggled back against Ross, backside creating the most delicious friction against Ross’ cock, which was now more than a little interested. 

‘Please.’ he rasped, a little needy note in his voice. ‘I’ve missed you.’ For added emphasis, he arched back against Ross. ‘We don’t have to fuck but I need your hands on me.’ One of his hands was stealing between them, and Ross gasped in Jim’s ear as it took hold of him through his sweatpants. 

‘If I do, will you go to the doctor tomorrow with no complaints and no fighting me on it?’ he asked through gritted teeth, fighting for control, and Jim nodded, a little too quickly.

‘I promise.’ he whined as Ross tightened his hand around his cock. ‘Please…’ The word was choked off as Ross ran his thumb over the head, feeling the collected wetness. ‘Oh Christ, that is so good…’ His hips moved as he thrust into Ross' grip, and Ross couldn’t help himself. He thrust up against Jim’s backside, his own breathing starting to quicken. 

‘And if I do fuck you, that means you have to take everything the doctor gives you.’ he panted into Jim’s ear. ‘Will you do that?’

‘Anything.’ Jim moaned back. ‘Just put your cock in me.’ He half turned into the mattress, into position. ‘Come on, baby. Please…’

‘Fuck.’ Ross ground out. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’ He rolled away for a moment to retrieve the lube from his bedside table drawer then quickly stripped his t-shirt and sweats off. He moved back, draping himself over Jim’s body, the heated skin below him like fire. Jim moaned again and the noise went straight to Ross’ head. He popped the top and coated two fingers, then reached down and circled them until Jim started keening loudly. When Ross pressed them in, Jim shuddered and grabbed the duvet, flinging it off so it landed on the floor. He was thrusting down into the bed and then pushing back into Ross’ hand as Ross moved his fingers in and out, his moans muffled by the pillow he’d pulled into his arms. 

‘Easy.’ Ross murmured into his fevered skin. ‘We have all night.’ 

‘I don’t want all night. I want it now.’ Jim’s voice had that petulant tone again and Ross bit his shoulder softly in retaliation. 

‘Brat.’ he murmured. ‘I should make you wait until after you’ve been to the doctor.’

‘Now Ross.’ Jim said, lifting his head to speak. Ross sighed.

‘You’re so bloody pushy when you’re sick.’ he said, but he got up and moved onto his knees between Jim’s spread legs, taking his fingers out and bracing himself on his hands either side of Jim’s body. Then he lined himself up and pushed in the first bit, feeling Jim’s body resist for a moment before opening up and taking him. It was wonderful, the tight hot slide made even more intense by Jim’s elevated temperature. 

‘Fuck…’ he breathed into the back of Jim’s neck. ‘Oh God…’

‘I know.’ Jim moaned underneath him. ‘I know…’ He was moving in earnest now, pushing back into Ross’ shallow thrusts. ‘But fucking move already. This is doing fuck all for me right now.’

‘Will you shut the fuck up?’ Ross was finding it hard to get a rhythm with all of Jim’s squirming. ‘Come on.’ he moved back, pulling out and tapping Jim on the hip. ‘Turn over.’ Jim rolled obediently, but it set off a coughing fit. Ross waited until he was able to breathe again, a concerned look on his face. ‘Maybe we really shouldn’t do this.’

‘If you don’t fuck me right fucking now I am going to make your life hell for the next week.’ Jim snapped at him ‘Now get inside me.’ He got his legs around Ross hips and pulled him down on top of him. Ross wasn’t expecting that and half fell on him.

‘Bloody hell.’ he said, and then Jim shifted his hips up against him, showing remarkable coordination considering his current state of health, and Ross slid back inside. ‘Jesus fuck.’ 

‘Now you’re talking.’ Jim smirked through his blocked nose. ‘Get moving Poldark. My arse isn’t going to fuck itself.’ 

‘Christ, you’re such a fucking bitch when you’re sick.’ Ross ground out, horribly turned on in spite of himself. He braced up again, and started thrusting. Jim groaned and threw his head back against the pillow.

‘Come on.’ he whined. ‘You’re not even fucking trying.’ His hands were on Ross’ backside, nails digging in and he hiked his legs higher up on Ross’ hips, the strength in them pulling Ross in as deep as he could go. ‘Fuck me properly, Poldark.’

‘I am fucking trying.’ Ross hissed, eventually giving in and grabbing a handful of thick hair at the back of Jim’s head and holding him still. ‘Stop fucking wriggling. You’re throwing me off.’ He moved back onto his knees, breaking Jim’s hold on him, and getting him under the hips. It took one strong pull and then he had Jim in his lap, hips off the mattress completely so his body was supported by his shoulders only. Jim yelped as Ross’ cock hit his prostate straight on and Ross grinned.

‘Not so fucking mouthy now.’ he said and Jim glared at him, then cried out as Ross got hold of his hips and drove into him. ‘That’s it, give it up. I’m going to fuck you so hard you going to pass out. Then maybe you’ll shut the fuck up and I can have some peace and fucking quiet.’

‘Fuck you, Ross.’ Jim hissed back at him. He had his hands above his head, hands clenched around the iron bars of the head board, using it to give himself leverage to push back onto Ross’ cock. ‘Oh God, yes…like that.’ he keened, head back and mouth open as Ross drove in hard and fast. ‘Harder. I want to feel it.’ His eyes were wide, the pupils so dilated there was hardly any colour left in them. ‘Yes…yes…yes…’ His words were coming in time with Ross’ thrusts, getting harsher and more rasping with every one. Ross felt a small moment of triumph at the thought that he was making Jim incoherent, but then also concern because he sounded like he was going to be sporting one hell of a sore throat the next day. He reached for Jim’s cock, stroking in time with as much coordination as he could muster and then Jim screamed hoarsely, clenching tightly around Ross as he came, cum painting both their stomachs. Ross cried out as the tremors caught him, his own orgasm arriving like a sledgehammer to the head, and he emptied into Jim’s body with his back arched and his head back. The strength of it shook his whole body, and he was dimly aware of Jim’s answering cries as Ross fucked him through his aftershocks. 

Ross was breathless, his chest heaving as he fought to get his focus back enough to check that Jim was okay. He looked down at him, and Jim looked back with a vacant happy smile. His whole body was wet with sweat and his breathing was laboured, the rasp still there, but he laughed hoarsely.

‘Now that was what I was talking about.’ he said. ‘Pity I had to practically goad you into it.’ 

‘If you die, remember you said I can have everything.’ Ross moved forward onto his hands and gently pulled out of him. ‘Also, that is the last fucking time I play nurse.’

‘Ooh.’ Jim’s smile turned wicked. ‘Now that is an interesting thought. I can just see you in your little uniform now.’

‘Oh, shut up.’ Ross muttered, and rolled off him onto his back.

***********

He awoke the next morning with Jim wrapped around him. Ross frowned and put his hand on Jim’s forehead. To his complete surprise, Jim’s skin was cool and his breathing, while still a little wet sounding, wasn’t anywhere as rasping as it had been the night before. 

‘Well, will you look at that.’ he murmured to himself and grinned. Jim mumbled something in his sleep, arms tightening around Ross. Ross kissed his forehead and settled back down to sleep some more.


	5. Howl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for tweak-girl-stuff who makes the most beautiful ethereal art for all the variations of Aidean. Go check her out on tumblr.
> 
> Iolaus/Luke because there is literally nothing. So this is the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Howl by Florence and The Machine
> 
> Also you have to imaging that all dialogue between Luke and Iolaus is in Ancient Greek. For those with a language kink out there ;)

It had all started with an incantation. An incantation out of a book that never should have been opened or read in the first place. 

Clary and Simon were both standing looking at the person standing in front of them, completely aghast.

‘Okay.’ Simon said, turning to Clary. ‘This is totally all your fault.’ For her part Clary chewed on her lower lip and wondered how the hell she was going to explain to Luke that they had summoned what appeared to be a young man in his back stockroom. 

‘Maybe we can send him back?’ she said.

‘How?’ Simon asked. ‘I’m not even sure how we got him here in the first place.’ The young man in question watched them both with what seemed to be great interest. His clear blue eyes followed them as they moved into a huddle of two at the side of the room and well out of the magical circle. 

‘Do you think he’s a demon?’ Clary asked.

‘He looks kind of human.’ Simon peered over her shoulder. And indeed he did. In fact he didn’t look threatening at all. His face was wearing a frank look of curiosity as he took in the room around him. And when he looked back at them, there was a friendly, if hesitant smile on his face, making two deep dimples appear at the corners of his mouth. 

‘I think you’re right.’ Clary said. ‘I’m pretty sure demons don’t have dimples.’ They turned back and the young man spoke, his voice forthright and they could tell from the tone of his voice that he was clearly asking a question.

‘Do you have any idea what he’s saying?’ Simon asked.

‘Nope.’ Clary replied. ‘But it sounds kind of like maybe, Greek or something? Luke would probably know.’

‘Great.’ Simon said, his face not looking at all pleased. ‘Guess we have to tell him, then.’

Luke was, to put it mildly, not amused. He’d gone out for not more than two hours and come back to the bookshop to find someone in his stockroom that had definitely not been there that morning.

‘Bloody hell.’ he said. ‘What on Earth did you two do?’ 

‘We don’t know.’ Clary said. ‘And we are awfully sorry.’ She and Simon gave Luke their most winning smiles. 

‘Well have you asked him anything?’ Luke looked past their shoulders to the young man, who was now looking extremely bored and sitting on the floor inside the magic circle.

‘We can’t understand him.’ Simon admitted. ‘He’s been asking us questions but he have no idea what language he’s speaking.’

‘Right.’ Luke frowned and moved to the edge of the chalk line. He spoke and the young man’s face became animated. He got up and moved towards Luke, who was a little surprised and moved back. Then the young man replied and Luke sighed in relief.

‘Well, that’s good.’ he said. ‘He speaks Ancient Greek and has assured me that he is in fact human. Not that we can usually trust these things but I think in this instance, a demon wouldn’t have hung around. They would have the power to go back to where they came from.’ 

‘See.’ Clary said smugly to Simon. ‘Told you it was Greek.’

************

It had been a month since Luke’s unexpected guest had turned up. It had been quite an experience so far. Luke thanked his lucky stars more than once that at least he could understand Iolaus (for that was the young man’s name apparently) and communication was possible. 

For his part, Iolaus was proving to be an interesting person to have around. He was intelligent and funny and his retelling of all the stories that Luke had spent a lifetime studying meant that they spent many enjoyable nights in each other’s company, with Luke getting to practise his Ancient Greek all he wanted. He was also attempting to teach Iolaus English, but that was coming along rather more slowly. 

Not only that, but Iolaus was surprisingly mature for someone who was only twenty, another fact that had come out in their conversations. But then, Luke reasoned, being twenty in Ancient Greece was like being thirty in the modern world, and he certainly had more in common with Luke than he did with Clary or Simon. 

They had yet to find a way to send him back though, in spite of four weeks of trawling through every book of magic that Luke had in the shop, or that he could get his hands on. So that meant that until they found one, he was living with Luke. That had bought its own set of interesting challenges. Luke had always wondered what it would be like to go back in ancient times. And now here he was dealing with having to teach Iolaus about the modern world he’d found himself in. 

Strangely enough, things like mobile phones and the television and most modern technology didn’t seem to bother him. He was more freaked out by bananas than he was by modern plumbing. The bus he found utterly fascinating and when he discovered that he could converse with the Greek couple who ran the restaurant down the road, he was more than happy to venture out. Luke, however, was solitary by nature, and there were concessions to be made by having a younger man in the house. But he found himself happily agreeing to Iolaus helping him in the shop, and noticed that it was definitely helping him pick up English a lot faster. 

There was only one particular issue that Luke wasn’t sure how to deal with. He had fortunately just transformed a few days before the event with the back room, but it was now only two more days until full moon, and he hadn’t decided what to do with Iolaus. Not only that but, as the days went by and his senses sharpened, Luke started to feel something he probably was better off not feeling. For the last four weeks, he become increasingly aware of a growing attraction to his young visitor. And he could have sworn that it wasn’t just him who felt that way, judging from the surreptitious looks he’d caught Iolaus giving him on more than one occasion.

It didn’t help that he had followed a life of enforced celibacy. But being a werewolf had ramifications for any partner he might take. It was very difficult for an alpha wolf like himself to separate sex and mating, as werewolves, like their natural counterparts, mated for life. And as the alpha wolf of his pack, that meant that whoever Luke had sex with would quite possible become his mate and not just a person he was sleeping with. 

The other aspect of this was that werewolf sex was notoriously violent, and that he stood a very good chance of hurting someone if he gave himself over to the animal urges inside him. So when he started to notice certain things like the way Iolaus smelled, Luke knew that there was a potential problem. 

He was now sitting at the desk near the bookshop window and watching as Iolaus sat on the floor opposite, back against the wall and book in hands. Simon had kindly lent him some clothes until they had been able to get him his own, and he now looked like a student fresh out of UCLA, his dark tanned skin and sun streaked blonde hair playing havoc with Luke’s attentions. He was wearing jeans and Converse and a black and red plaid flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. His thick blonde hair was tied back using one of Clary’s sparkly hair ties and he was still wearing the leather thong necklace he’d had on when he’d arrived from his distant time. It was a devastating look, and one that Luke was trying desperately to ignore. He kept his head down, but then it was like his sense were prickling and he looked up into the clear blue gaze directed at him.

‘You are quiet today.’ Iolaus said. His voice was pleasant and well-modulated, the odd accent of the Ancient Greek almost melodic to Luke’s ear. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘No.’ he replied. ‘I am simply not feeling very well.’ Iolaus noded.

‘Clary told me that you suffer with this once a month.’ he said. ‘She worries for you. But then lycanthropy isn’t something you should take lightly.’ It took Luke a couple of seconds to register what he had said and the calm tone he’d used to say it.

‘Excuse me?’ he eventually asked. Iolaus closed the book he was reading and smiled at him, the dimples making Luke’s pulse inexplicably speed up. 

‘We had a pack of them back when I come from.’ he said. ‘We are quite used to them. The ones that I know are very law-abiding. There was even one at the academy.’ He gave Luke a look that would have embarrassed Luke if he hadn’t been so shocked at the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

‘You mean you don’t find it frightening?’ he asked. Iolaus laughed.

‘No.’ he replied. ‘It’s fascinating.’

‘It won’t be so fascinating when I’m ripping your head off.’ Luke pointed out. Iolaus shrugged.

‘We’ll see.’ he said. 

*********

Two days later, Luke woke up and felt it. It always started the same way with cramps in his belly and an itch in his gums. He knew he’d be irritable and grumpy for a few hours before the change started to kick in properly. Jocelyn had pointed out the similarities in their monthly cycles on more than one occasion with a sardonic grin, but he would always swear that he would have happily taken hers rather than what happened to him every month.

He thankfully had a place to go. There basement of the book shop ran deep, and Luke had discovered that there was a room right at the far end which suited him perfectly. It was an old padded cell, and the security of it meant that he didn’t need to worry about getting out and hurting anyone. It also meant that he could leave Iolaus at the apartment with Clary and Simon, and not have to be concerned. The fact that Iolaus had been completely fine with the idea that he was a werewolf had surprised him, but it certainly made things a lot easier.

Now, sitting at the kitchen counter, he was making a list of all the things he needed to do before he sequestered himself for the evening. He had rigged up the door so that he would be able to lock it securely in a way that meant he couldn’t get out from the inside. He had to secure provisions for the wolf and set down clean bedding. Generally, one he transformed and found himself alone and locked in the room, he would usually settle down quite quickly.

Luke looked from his list up to find Iolaus regarding him with that steady look that he’d been giving him for the last two days since Luke had confirmed that he was a werewolf. It was a strange considering type of look and it unnerved Luke a little. All right, if he was being honest, it unnerved him a lot. The young man was resting his chin in one hand.

‘The lycanthropes I know would go into the mountains to run in the open air when they needed to change form.’ he said conversationally, like Luke was simply going to have his hair cut.

‘Well, New York is a little lacking in open spaces and mountains.’ Luke replied. ‘And there are too many people around to take the risk of being outdoors.’

‘But doesn’t it make you frustrated to be locked up in that room all night, when the wolf just wants to run?’ Iolaus asked. Luke was a little taken aback. He’d always considered that it was something people wouldn’t really understand.

‘Well, yes.’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘But it’s for the greater good. I would rather be frustrated than accidentally hurt someone.’ 

‘Obviously.’ Iolaus said. ‘But what about the other things?’

‘What other things?’ Luke asked. He was a little thrown by the conversation they were having but then Iolaus’ next question completely knocked him for six.

‘Mating.’ he said, his tone surprisingly matter of fact. ‘Don’t modern lycanthropes still need to mate at the full moon?’ Luke nearly choked on his coffee. The fact that transformation was accompanied by and almost compulsive need to mate was something that he didn’t tell anyone who wasn’t a werewolf, and of course there was no need to discuss it with them because they were obviously in the same boat. He simply stared at Iolaus, not sure what to say. ‘Well?’

‘I haven’t done that in a very long time.’ he replied. ‘I haven’t wanted to.’ 

‘Really?’ Iolaus was wearing that now familiar look of frank curiosity that Luke knew would be accompanied shortly by a myriad of questions. ‘Why not?’

‘Well…’ Luke struggled to find the words he needed. One thing he had discovered was that the Ancient Greeks seemed a lot more straight forward, and he also had the feeling that Iolaus was blunt even for his own time. ‘If I were to do that, I run two risks. I am not always fully in control of myself and werewolf relations can be…rough.’ He berated himself for feeling so embarrassed. True there was a twelve year age gap between them, but right now he felt like it was he who was the younger. 

‘And the other?’ Iolaus asked. ‘You said there two risks.’

‘During mating there is always the distinct possibility that I will decide that the person I am, well….’ He trailed off.

‘Yes?’ Iolaus was giving him that damnable dimpled smile now and Luke was finding it hard to concentrate on what he was trying to say.

‘If I feel like the person is someone I would want to bond with then I may bite them.’ Luke said in a rush of words. ‘And obviously if I bite them…’

‘They turn into a lycanthrope?’ Iolaus said. ‘I know that, Luke. It’s often how packs reproduce. Too many individuals who are related can cause madness in a bloodline.’ Luke looked at him aghast.

‘So in your time it’s normal to take a human mate and turn them?’ he asked. Iolaus nodded.

‘Quite normal.’ he said. ‘And it works best if the male is one who favours his own kind. It means there are more breeding females for those who would choose them.’ And with that statement the look he gave Luke seemed to become just a touch more significant. Luke could feel his face heating up at the possibility in what Iolaus had just said. He’d never considered the thought of taking a male for a mate, although he certainly wouldn’t be the first werewolf to do so. And it wasn’t like he had never had a male lover before either.

He jumped a little at the sudden touch on his arm and looked up into clear blue eyes. Iolaus was now standing in front of him. With Luke seated they were of a height, and Luke became very aware of how little distance separated them. He’d been keeping a very tight lid on the strange attraction he’d been feeling, but with Iolaus so close to him now, it was suddenly quite hard to breathe. The distinctive smell of him flooded Luke’s senses, heightened by the nearness of his transformation, and he caught his breath for just a moment. The pleased smile on Iolaus’ face made him realise he’d picked up on it as well.

‘Something for consideration.’ he said, his voice dropping into a deeper register that made Luke’s interest sharpen. Then, without any warning at all, Iolaus leaned in and kissed him. 

For a single wild minute, Luke let himself be kissed. It was very nice and it had been so long since the last time. But then his common sense came screaming back and it told him very sternly that he had no place kissing a twenty-year old time refugee from Ancient Greece in his kitchen, no matter how attractive said refugee might be. He broke away and Iolaus frowned ever so slightly.

‘I’m sorry.’ Luke practically babbled. ‘This is…’ he got up from the stool he was sitting on and backed away from Iolaus, like he was the dangerous animal and not him. ‘I have to go to work.’ He grabbed his bag off the counter and fairly charged out of the apartment. 

Iolaus watched him go with a very amused look on his face.

**********

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Luke could feel the urge getting worse and worse and now it had the added detriment of causing him to replay the kiss again and again in his mind. He couldn’t shake the distracting recollection of the warm sure mouth that had been pressed to his, even if it was only briefly. He hadn’t felt a sexual attraction to anyone since he’d decided that if he couldn’t have Jocelyn, then he didn’t want anybody. But the more he thought about it, the more attractive the idea became to him. He’d never wanted to sire offspring, and the idea of taking a male as a mate made a lot of sense both from this perspective and from the perspective of having someone to keep his urges in check.

And, if Luke allowed himself the luxury of thinking like this, he was lonely. Jocelyn wasn’t his and wouldn’t be his for the foreseeable future. And as much as he adored Clary and was very fond of Simon, they had their own families. He didn’t have anyone who was just his, who he could be with and come home to. And as much as his pragmatism was screaming at him that what he was contemplating was crazy, the craziest thing he’d ever contemplated in his life, another part of him was telling him to just do it. Luke looked at the clock. It was a little before seven. He knew it was another two hours to moonrise. If he left now he might make it back in time to do something about the heat that was welling in his chest. But eventually his head won out and he stamped down the urge to leave and go claim the young man who had so blatantly offered himself that morning. Instead, Luke went and turned the shop sign around to show it was closed. Then he locked the front door securely and went downstairs, going into the room and locking the door.

The room in the basement was fairly comfortable. He’d discovered that the wolf liked to lie on sofas as much as he did, so there was a particularly old one in the corner. Luke filled up the water dish with fresh water and tore open the bag of dog biscuits that he found the wolf preferred. Then he started to undress. He sat and took off his shoes and socks first, then took off the three layers of sweater shirt and t-shirt. Finally his jeans and boxers were removed and all the clothes were put into a plastic shopper which he attached to the hook at the end of the cord rigged up to the ceiling. Then Luke hauled the bag out of reach of the wolf, tied the cord to the cleat he’d screwed to the wall. The ticking of the clock, also high up on the wall was starting to become almost ridiculously clear and crisp as his senses started to sharpen. It was almost eight. One hour to go. He lay down on the sofa and pulled the blanket he’d placed there earlier over him. It was a cheap dollar store one, and it would make no difference if the wolf ripped it to pieces as it often did. 

The transformation was a lot slower than people were led to believe by popular culture. The final stage was violent and seemingly quick, but the truth was that it was a lot like an orgasm, if he could use that analogy. There was a lot of build-up followed by a rather dramatic climax, which was when the greatest physical transformation took place. But in truth, his body was already changing. The first thing was his senses and if he focused he could hear everything going on at street level, smell the slight changes in the air around him. As the time passed, he knew that his irises would lose their hazel colour, lightening to amber. His gums were itching almost unbearably now, and it wouldn’t be long before his teeth started to fall out, replaced by those of the wolf. His bones were also stretching and shifting minutely, and as Luke looked at his hands, he saw that his fingernails were starting to darken and densify. 

Twenty minutes later and the claws were in place, black and hard as obsidian. Luke also knew that his eyes were completely changed as the last of the vivid colours he saw as a human drained away, to be replaced by the strangely washed out monochromes he saw as the wolf. His eye teeth had also fallen out, and he spat them onto the floor as his wolf fangs descended. It was painful, but it also assuaged the dreadful itch and burn. He got up from the sofa, starting to pace backwards and forwards. He glanced up frequently through the barred window at street level, high above his head and caught a tiny glimpse of the night sky. That was when he heard the sound. 

There was someone in the shop.

Luke was horrified. He’d made sure everything was locked securely and now he could hear very clearly the footsteps of someone directly above him. He growled, low in his throat, aggression and fear mixing. The footsteps continued and then they became muffled as the person moved to the rooms at the back of the shop. Luke knew that if the person came downstairs they would have trouble finding him. He’d taken pains to stack boxes and other bits of detritus in the way of the path to the room. But as he listened, he realised that whoever it was knew the pathway. That confused him, but the wolf was already starting to claw at the edges of his mind and he couldn’t think straight. 

The sound of scratching at the door completely set him on edge and the wolf growled angrily at the back of his mind. Luke backed into a corner of the room, and started at the door. He had locked it, he knew that. And whoever it was trying to come in knew how the locking system must work, because it was only a matter of minutes and the door opened. The person on the other side stepped through into the dark room. Luke growled, a low warning that reverberated through his chest and came out surprisingly loud. The person stepped forward into a pool of light cast by the street lamps outside.

It was Iolaus. 

Luke backed up even further as the realisation hit him. He was furious at the fact that he had so recklessly come into this room, and he watched as Iolaus turned and closed the door, then heard the snick of the lock falling into place. Now the fury turned to panic as he realised they were locked inside until Clary came round in the morning to let him out as she always did.

‘What are you doing?’ he snarled, fangs making the words slurred. ‘Are you crazy? And how the hell did you get in?’

‘Maybe a little.’ Iolaus said, and then he took a step forward. Luke cringed away from him. 'And I was a thief. I'm good with picking locks.'

‘Stay away from me.’ he said. ‘I am very dangerous like this, but if you stay away you might still be alive tomorrow.’ 

‘No.’ Iolaus said. He took another step forward. ‘If you are worried about killing me, there is another way to stop that.’

‘No.’ Luke held out a hand to ward him off and saw Iolaus’ eyebrows go up as he spotted the claws. ‘I won’t do that to you.’

‘What if I choose it?’ Iolaus said. Luke watched as he reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, dropping it on the floor. The dim light cast the most beautiful shadows on his skin. ‘What if I want it?’ He took another step closer and then the scent rolled over Luke in waves. ‘What if I’ve wanted it from the moment I saw you?’

‘You can’t mean that.’ Luke closed his eyes, hoping against hope that when he opened them again the vision in front of him would be gone. ‘It would be a terrible thing for me to do to you.’ He opened his eyes as he felt a tentative touch on his open hand. Iolaus was standing only a foot from him, palm pressed to his.

‘It’s all right Luke.’ he said. ‘I want this. I want you.’ Then Iolaus smiled and all Luke’s resistance disappeared as if in a puff of smoke. 

Luke surged forward, catching Iolaus around the waist and pulling him in tightly, He watched as the blue eyes widened in surprise and then darkened with unexpected heat. He resisted the urge to dig his claws into the soft skin under his hands and instead settled for physically lifting him and carrying him over to the sofa, dropping him unceremoniously and then climbing on top of him. Iolaus was breathing quickly, almost like he’d run a race and Luke pinned his wrists to the sofa, hearing himself snarl as he leaned over him.

‘You really shouldn’t have come in here.’ he growled and Iolaus smiled.

‘I have been told I’m not the cleverest before.’ he replied. ‘I’m still alive though.’ He arched against Luke, and Luke looked down at where his body was very obviously starting to take an interest in what he was doing. Iolaus followed his gaze and grinned, a cheeky thing with a very suggestive cast to it. ‘I am also thinking that coming in here was actually a very good idea if that’s what I’m being greeted with.’

‘It could horribly wrong.’ Luke said, his voice now almost unrecognisable. ‘I could really hurt you, Iolaus.’

‘I have done this before, Luke.’ Iolaus replied. ‘I’m not some virginal maid that you’ve spirited away in the night.’

‘No, but you’ve probably never been mated by an alpha male werewolf before either.’ Luke gritted his teeth as a spasm of unprecedented need shook him. Oh yes, his body definitely liked this. ‘It’ll hurt. And I bite.’

‘That’s all right.’ Iolaus’ blue eyes flashed at him. ‘I can take whatever you want to give me.’ He leaned up as best he could, mouth inches from Luke’s. ‘Bite me if you want to.’ The growl that elicited was deep and rumbling and then Luke gave in entirely, lost in the tidal wave of want that overtook him. He almost fell on top of Iolaus, getting a soft noise as the air was knocked out of him. 

Then it was a battle to get the last of Iolaus’ clothes off him, both of them working together, fabric ripping under Luke’s claws, until he was lying naked under Luke on the sofa. The contact between them was scorching, Luke’s heated skin against Iolaus’ cooler body, and it made Luke growl and Iolaus’ breathing escalate. Then Luke moved and their bodies slid together, bringing friction and moans. 

They still had not kissed, Luke holding back, fearful of his fangs which were now fully descended and razor sharp. But Iolaus wrestled one hand free and caught him at the back of the head, fingers tangling in his thick dark hair.

‘Do everything to me.’ he breathed and then he was kissing Luke once more, mouth warm and confident. Luke hesitated for a second, but then the wolf inside roared and he responded, forcing Iolaus’ mouth open and licking into it in a frenzied motion that shocked even him in its intensity. There was a moment when he felt like they were drowning in each other, tongues and teeth turning the kiss into a heated exchange that made both of them pant. Luke could feel the blood lust rising in him, an urgent need to bite and tear and rip flesh. But there was also a deeper need, dark red and almost velvety, that wanted to fuck. A sharp gasp from Iolaus brought him back to the moment and he saw that his claws had dug deep enough to draw blood, tiny pinpricks of it along the arm that was still pinned down. The smell of it was like a drug, slowing Luke’s mind. He couldn’t help himself and leaned down to lick at the droplets, the taste like honey on his tongue. The movement also brought their cocks into alignment and Iolaus dug his fingers into Luke’s upper arms and threw his head back.

Luke dropped his neck and sniffed deeply up the line of his neck. He could almost smell the blood beneath the surface and it drove him slightly closer to the edge, the wolf letting itself out just a little more. He licked along the line of Iolaus’ throat and then moved down to bury his face in the crook of Iolaus’ neck, breathing deeply. A flash of white hot pain ran down his spine and when he lifted his head and growled, Iolaus could see eyes glowing like embers and gleaming fangs. He shivered at the ferocity in those amber eyes and then Luke was lifting off of him and pulling Iolaus with him, claws digging into his arms. They landed back down on the sofa, with Luke sitting and with Iolaus on top of him, facing the door. For a moment Luke wanted nothing more than to just sit there, breathing into the smell of Iolaus’ skin. He reached up, one razor sharp claw cutting through the hairband like it was nothing and the thick blond hair fell forward about Iolaus’ face. Iolaus couln’t see anything from his vantage point, but he could feel the tickle of Luke’s claws on his neck and then one arm came around his waist, holding him securely. The other moved to his hip and he understood what Luke wanted, even if he seemed to be past speaking. 

‘Wait.’ he managed to say and there was a questioning growl from behind him. Iolaus hauled himself up off Luke and went over to the mangled remains of his jeans lying on the floor. He dug in the back pocket and retrieved a clear plastic tube. ‘I came prepared.’ he said, and Luke growled at him. Iolaus stood for a moment and looked at the werewolf, heated blue gaze travelling from the hypnotic glowing eyes to the fangs that were just exposed by his open panting mouth, then down the powerfully muscled body covered in thick black hair across the chest and stomach and down lower and lower until…suddenly he was very, very glad he’d had the foresight to come prepared. ‘Oh.’

If werewolves could smirk, Iolaus was pretty Luke just did. He walked forward, eyes locked on what awaited him. As he got closer, Luke growled and reached for him, getting one arm around his hips and looking up at him, at the young face shiny with sweat, blond hair in damp tendrils around his face. The he took hold of his cock, obsidian claws curling around it, and started stroking. It had been an age since he’d been with someone, but that didn’t mean he’d been idle and he was rewarded when Iolaus moaned and thrust into his grip. With his other hand, he stroked down Iolaus side, claws just scratching lightly. The wolf was almost entirely with him now, reaching the point where it would be the two of them, running side by side into the night. Luke wrested the tube from Iolaus grip and completely knocked the top off with one powerful flick of his claws and squeezing to the entire contents went over his own groin and cock, a slippery mess resulting. Then he pulled Iolaus in close, stilling them both for a moment so he could look up at him. Their eyes locked and then Iolaus turned so that he was facing away from him.

‘It will be easier this way.’ he murmured and Luke took him by the hips, guiding him into position over him. Then Iolaus lowered down, and there was a single second where Luke and the wolf met in the middle of his mind and then Iolaus lowered down, and the head of Luke’s cock pressed against him. It wasn’t as resistant as he’d expected and he looked up with a questioning whine, only to get a filthy smile from Iolaus’ half-turned face, and Luke realised that he’d come to the bookshop with this in his mind all along, and had also prepared himself beforehand. Then Iolaus pressed down and the first part went in, and all rational thought left Luke’s mind as the wolf took the driving seat.

He hadn’t been lying when he said it was rough. That it would hurt. But although he couldn’t control himself entirely, claws digging into the skin of Iolaus’s chest, he did manage to moderate it so the furrows he left were shallow, blood welling up and running in thin tendrils down Iolaus’ chest and stomach. The smell of it drove him wild and he whined into Iolaus’ sweat drenched back, then got him under the thigh and simply let him drop down onto his cock, making Iolaus yell and himself snarl at the intense heat. Even with preparation it was tight and Luke held Iolaus up, claws now drawing blood from the delicate skin of his inner thigh until Iolaus was whining with pain and pleasure, all his eloquence forgotten. Then Luke started to move, not the slow deliberate thrusts that he would have use if he had been in control of himself, but harsh driving thrusts that made Iolaus cry out and scrabble at Luke’s arms. He half turned towards him, looking down with wide eyes, pupils dilated with lust and pleasure, until he could throw his arm around Luke’s neck and hold on, pushing down into every thrust. Luke looked up at him, watching as Iolaus started to thrash on top of him, smelling the arousal coming from every pore until his orgasm hit and he covered his own stomach and chest in white. That was the final push and Luke tightened his grip, his mouth dropping to Iolaus’ shoulder and his fangs biting down hard enough to break the skin. Iolaus’ blood was in his mouth and it triggered his own climax, coming deep inside the young plaint body in his arms, filling him up until Luke threw back his own head and howled into the silence of the room. 

Then the wolf kicked him out of his own head and Luke lost consciousness.

************

He came to on the sofa. But he was not alone. Next to him, with Luke’s arms wrapped around him protectively, was his mate. Luke nuzzled into the back of Iolaus' neck.

'Mine.' he growled softly.

'Yours.' Iolaus murmured back.


End file.
